T 


tieir 


TUariposa 
Lecrend 

J{  Romance  of  Cataima 


Bi|   CHARLOTTE   HERR 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY    O" 
«*\*i  —  —*-  - 


h. 


THEIR  MARIPOSA  LEGEND 
A  ROMANCE  OF  CATALINA 


THEIR 
MARIPOSA  LEGEND 


A  ROMANCE  OF 
CATALINA 


BY 
CHARLOTTE   HERR 


ILLUSTRATION  BY  ORRIN  WHITE 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright,  1921 
By  Charlotte  Bronte  Herr    * 


First  Issue  May,  1921 


Post  Printing  and  Binding  Co- 
Pasadena,  Cal. 


MAY  -8  •S  v    A 

1C1A704770  c 


TO    LITTLE    BRUCE    PARKER 
WHO  LOVED  STORIES 


PART  I 
SIR  FRANCIS  STARTS  IT 

IT  BEGAN  to  happen  a  long  time  ago,  cen 
turies  ago,  when,  in  a  fragrant  rush  of 
rain,  spring  came  one  day  to  Punagwandah, 
fairest  of  the  Channel  Islands.  Beneath  the 
golden  mists  of  sunrise  danced  a  radiant  sea. 
On  steeply  sloping  hillsides  where  thickets  of 
wild  lilac  bloomed,  the  lark  shook  from  his  tiny 
throat  a  tumult  of  glad  music.  In  shadowed 
niches  of  the  canyons  lilies  waited  to  fill  with 
light  their  gleaming  ivory  cups.  Spring  in 
very  truth  was  there. 

And  looking  down  upon  it  from  her  cavern 
bower  high  above  the  beach,  watched  the  Prin 
cess  Wildenai.  Kneeling  there,  the  light  of 
dawn  shining  on  her  long  black  hair,  she  was, 
herself,  the  sweetest  blossom  of  the  spring. 
Loveliest  was  she  among  all  the  maidens  of  the 
Mariposa  and  of  royal  blood  besides;  al 
though  of  this  the  great  chief  Torquam,  who 
even  at  that  moment  lay  sleeping  in  his  lodge 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


of  deerskin  on  the  crescent  beach  below,  knew 
more  than  he  had  ever  told. 

With  eyes  rapt,  her  breath  scarcely  stirring 
the  folds  of  softest  fawnskin  drawn  across  her 
breast,  the  princess  bent  her  gaze  to  where 
the  waves  ran  silver  on  the  ocean's  distant  rim. 
There  she  knew  the  sun  must  rise  and,  as  the 
first  dazzling  ray  sparkled  across  the  water, 
she  rose  slowly  until  she  stood  erect,  a  slender, 
graceful  figure  against  the  dim,  gray  rocks, 
and  stretching  her  arms  toward  the  East,  spoke 
in  the  musical  words  of  her  people. 

1  'Oh,  Waken-ate,  great  spirit- father,"  she 
pleaded,  "have  mercy  on  me.  Grant  to  me, 
thy  humble  daughter,  one  only  boon.  Grant,  I 
pray  thee,  that  it  need  not  be  I  wed  with  Tor- 
quam's  friend,  the  pale-face  stranger.  Well 
knowest  thou  I  would  not  disobey  my  father, 
him  the  bravest  and  most  powerful  of  all  thy 
warriors,  him  whom  his  people  delight  to 
honor,  and  whom  I  strive  to  please.  All  the 
more  I  feel  my  duty  since,  many  moons  ago, 
they  laid  my  mother  underneath  the  flowers. 
Yet,  even  so,  I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  wed 
with  Don  Cabrillo,  dearly  as  does  my  father 
wish  it.  Can'st  thou  not  then,  in  thy  great 


Two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


power,  turn  his  heart,  oh  lord  of  spirits,  that 
he  no  longer  may  desire  it?  Help  me  in  this, 
my  only  trial,  I  pray  thee,  and  in  all  else  will  I 
be  indeed  his  loyal  daughter, — in  all  else  save 
alone  in  this  one  thing!'* 

Her  arms  fell.  Slowly  she  sank  again  to 
her  knees,  bending  her  head  until  her  forehead 
touched  the  ground.  For  many  minutes  she 
lay  thus  prostrate  while  the  glory  of  the  rising 
sun  bathed  the  sea  in  splendor.  Yet,  when  at 
last  she  rose,  her  eyes  were  dim  with  tears. 

But  now  from  the  beach  below  there 
drifted  up  to  her  the  sounds  of  a  village  astir. 
Shrill  voices  of  women  mingled  with  the 
crackling  of  freshly  kindled  fires.  A  canoe, 
pushed  hastily  into  the  water,  grated  harshly 
on  the  pebbles.  Still  the  maiden  did  not  stir. 
Leaning  against  the  rocky  ledge,  her  chin  in 
her  hands,  she  gazed  listlessly  out  over  the 
shining  sea.  If  any  interests  lived  for  her 
among  the  dark-skinned  people  beneath  the 
cliffs,  for  the  moment  at  least  she  gave  no  sign. 

Then,  suddenly,  above  the  ordinary  din  of 
the  Indian  village,  rose  the  hoarse  shouting  of 
men.  Wildenai  lifted  her  eyes, — eyes  that 
widened  first  with  wonder,  then  with  fear.  For 


Three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


there,  far  down  the  shoreline  to  the  south,  her 
sails  gleaming  white  against  the  walls  of  rock 
behind  her  as  she  rounded  a  distant  point,  a 
ship  came  slowly  into  view.  With  wildly  beat 
ing  heart  the  young  girl  watched  the  vessel 
tack  to  clear  the  long  curve  of  the  coast.  But 
once  before  in  all  her  life  had  she  seen  such 
another  monster  winged  canoe,  and  that  had 
been  when  Senor  Don  Cabrillo  first  cast  an 
chor  in  the  Bay  of  Moons  below,  now  almost 
a  year  ago.  For  many  a  week  had  the  young 
man  lingered,  renewing  the  friendship  with 
the  Mariposa  cemented  more  than  eighteen 
years  before  when  his  father,  hindered  by 
storms  in  his  adventurous  journey  up  the 
coast,  cast  anchor  off  the  shore, — the  first 
white  man  to  see  their  island.  Nor  was  the 
lingering  without  result.  Torquam  he  taught 
to  speak  the  Spanish  tongue,  learning  in  his 
turn  safer  and  easier  routes  to  the  gold  fields 
of  the  north,  while  not  the  least  among  the 
treasures  carried  with  him  when  at  last  he 
sailed  away  did  he  hold  the  promise  that  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  the  chief  should  become 
his  bride  when  next  he  touched  upon  that 
shore.  Could  this,  then,  be  the  Spaniard's 


Four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

fleet  returning?  Was  the  Great  Spirit  power 
less,  after  all,  to  save  her?  In  sore  bewilder 
ment  and  terror  Wildenai  watched  the  distant 
ship. 

Nearer  and  nearer  it  came.  But,  as  its 
outline  grew  each  moment  more  distinct,  grad 
ually  her  fears  departed.  For  this  was  not  the 
clumsy  Spanish  galleon  she  remembered.  The 
prow  was  not  nearly  so  high,  nor  was  the  in 
coming  vessel  as  large  in  any  respect  as  had 
been  that  other.  Yet,  though  fear  died,  won 
der  grew.  What  new  variety  of  strangers, 
then,  was  about  to  visit  them?  For  that  the 
ship  intended  to  anchor  she  was  by  this  time 
sure.  Steadily  it  bore  on  until  within  a  scant 
half  mile  of  the  crescent  shaped  beach  where 
lay  the  royal  village  of  the  tribe.  At  length, 
as  if  in  fear  to  trust  themselves  closer  to  the 
rocky  shore,  the  crew  were  seen  to  bring  the 
vessel  sharply  about.  An  anchor  was  cast 
over,  the  creaking  of  the  hawsers  distinctly 
audible  in  the  clear  morning  air,  and  a  few  mo 
ments  later  a  small  boat  was  lowered.  Into 
this  boat  immediately  several  sailors  swung 
themselves  and  after  a  short  delay,  amidst  the 
shouting  of  the  Indians,  now  running  in  wild 


Five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

excitement  up  and  down  the  beach,  the  men 
picked  up  their  oars  and  started  for  the  land. 

"Alla-hoa,  Wildenai!" 

Up  the  stony  trail  leading  to  her  cavern 
scrambled  an  Indian  runner,  a  lithe  youth  who 
flung  himself  breathless  at  her  feet. 

"Thy  father,  oh  princess,  sends  me  to 
summon  thee  to  his  lodge.  Strangers, — pale 
face  strangers, — enemies,  who  can  tell,  are 
coming.  See, — the  ship!"  With  dark  fore 
finger  he  pointed  toward  the  sea.  "Torquam 
would  have  thee  hide  with  the  rest  of  the 
women  in  the  cave  at  the  Great  Rock.  There 
Kathah-galwa  wilt  keep  thee  safe,  he  says. 
Make  haste,  oh  Wildenai!" 

"And  am  I  not  as  safe  up  here?"  returned 
the  princess,  calmly.  "Be  not  so  lost  in  thy 
terror,  oh  Norqua.  I,  too,  have  seen  the  ship 
and  I  fear  not.  Yet  will  I  obey  if  so  my  father 
bids,"  she  added  quickly.  "Go  thou  ahead.  I 
follow."  And  hastily  gathering  together  some 
reeds  and  colored  grasses  lying  on  the  ledge, 
parts  of  an  unfinished  basket  upon  which,  evi 
dently,  she  had  during  some  previous  visit 
been  at  work,  she  flung  them  into  a  corner  of 


Six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

the  cavern  and  ran  lightly  down  the  narrow 
path  leading  to  the  village. 

Here  all  by  this  time  was  tense  excitement, 
the  dramatic,  ungoverned  excitement  of  chil 
dren.  While  with  shrill  cries  two  or  three  of 
the  women  gathered  the  little  ones  together, 
the  rest  pulled  frantically  at  the  poles  holding 
each  tepee  in  place.  Still  apparently  quite  un 
moved,  Wildenai  sought  first  her  father  stand 
ing  surprised  but  unafraid  in  the  doorway  of 
his  lodge.  Tall  and  spare  and  stern  he  looked, 
straight  as  some  lonely  pine  on  the  slopes  of 
distant  San  Jacinto.  Yet  even  in  the  stress  of 
such  a  moment  a  tender  light  stole  into  his  eyes 
as  they  rested  upon  his  motherless  daughter. 

Wildenai  made  obeisance  and  for  a  brief 
moment  the  two  surveyed  each  other  in  silence. 
Then, 

"It  is  well  thou  art  come,  my  beloved  one," 
spoke  the  chief.  " Stranger  pale- faces  will 
soon  be  amongst  us.'* 

"Wildenai  feels  no  fear,  my  father,"  quiet 
ly  answered  the  girl. 

"If  they  come  in  friendship,"  quickly  Tor- 
quam  replied,  "then  indeed  may  all  be  well. 
But  the  ship  is  not  of  the  Senor's  fleet,  and  if 


Seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

so  be  that  we  must  fight,  thou  wert  better  hid 
den  in  the  cave.    We  shall  see." 

Bending  her  head  in  mute  acquiescence 
the  girl  moved  away  to  join  the  group  of 
women  now  almost  ready  to  depart. 


Meantime  the  vessel's  long  boat,  driven  on 
ward  by  the  stout  arms  of  three  strong  sailors, 
steadily  approached  the  bay. 

"What  think' st  thou  then,  Rufus  Broad- 
mead,  of  this  fool's  errand  to  the  savages?" 
inquired  one  of  these,  resting  upon  his  oars  for 
a  moment  that  he  might  the  better  listen  to  the 
tumult  on  the  shore.  "Wot  ye  not  that  if 
water  had  been  the  only  boon  he  craves  the 
captain  had  fared  much  better  on  the  main 
land?  Besides,  did  not  I  myself  overhear  the 
Apache  only  yesterday  tell  him  of  a  certainty 
that  the  tribes  over  there  were  away  on  the 
warpath  ?  But  no,  by  the  mass,  here  must  we 
risk  our  precious  scalps  to  row  into  the  very 
teeth  of  the  heathen,  and  that  to  humor  the 
whim  of  as  obstinate  an  Englishman  as  ever 

Eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


sailed  aboard  Her  Majesty's  fleets!"  and  with 
out  awaiting  any  reply  he  lowered  his  oars  in 
disgust. 

The  others  laughed. 

"Hast  been,  then,  so  stupid,  brother  Giles, 
for  all  thy  listening  with  thy  big  ears,  as  not  to 
know  'tis  Spanish  treasure  ever  and  naught 
else  our  captain  seeks?  Water, — pouf!"  the 
speaker  made  a  rough  grimace,  "water  may 
well  serve  as  an  excuse,  and  what  to  bold  Sir 
Francis  were  the  lives  of  half  a  dozen  seamen 
when  booty  for  the  queen  lies  in  the  balance? 
The  Apache  told  him,  too, — thou  see'st  thou 
hast  not  played  the  listening  game  alone,  for, 
hiding  behind  the  fo'castle  door  myself,  I 
heard  him  say  it, — that  here  lay  that  famous 
island,  San — how  is't  they  call  it?  San  Cat- 
lina — I  know  not  how  'tis  spoken, — some 
Spanish  lingo  not  fit  for  English  tongues !  At 
any  rate  'twas  here  your  Spanish  robber,  Don 
Cabrillo,  and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  his  prec 
ious  son  as  well,  stopped  to  seek  direction  ere 
they  found  the  land  of  gold.  The  savage  sware 
besides  they  were  a  gentle  tribe,  not  given  to 
war  and  murder  like  the  rest.  I  hearkened 
well,  forsooth,  knowing  past  doubt  I  would  be 


Nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

een  one  o'  those  chosen  to  try  'em  out.  The 
devil  take  the  Apache  an  he  lied,"  he  added 
fiercely,  "I'll  break  his  head  across  till  even  he 
shrieks  out  for  help  when  I  get  back!" 

He  paused  to  gaze  fearfully  at  the  stern 
cliffs  now  looming  close  at  hand,  beneath 
which  the  excited  natives  still  ran  back  and 
forth,  pointing  with  frantic  gestures  at  the  boat. 

The  third  man  spoke.  He  was  smaller 
than  the  other  two  and  darker,  with  a  sly  look 
about  his  eyes  and  mouth  in  strong  contrast 
to  the  bluff  frankness  of  his  comrades.  So  far 
he  had  appeared  content  to  listen  in  amused 
silence,  but  now  with  a  short  laugh  he  inter 
rupted. 

"The  Apache  did  not  lie.  This  is  the  island 
Santa  Catalina,  though  that,  mark  you,  is  not 
the  Indian  name.  And  right  well  can  the  chief 
who  rules  here  direct  our  captain  also  to  the 
goldfields  of  the  north.  But  hearkee,  com 
rades.  Tis  not  Drake  will  reap  the  profits  this 
time!"  He  lowered  his  voice  mysteriously  as 
though  fearful  of  being  overheard,  albeit  noth 
ing  was  nearer  than  his  two  companions  and 
the  clear,  green  stretch  of  water.  "Have  ye 
not  observed  the  boy  who  travels  with  the  cap- 


Ten 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

tain  ? — the  boy  I  serve, — the  one  they  call  Sir 
Harry?  To  my  mind,  cub  though  he  be,  'tis  he 
who  rules  the  ship.  Hast  never  noticed  how 
the  great  Drake  himself  bends  to  his  slightest 
wish?" 

"Aye,  marry,  that  have  I!  And  who,  then, 
is  he,  think'st  thou?"  inquired  the  man  who 
had  spoken  first. 

"Some  close  kin  to  the  queen, — that  much 
I  know,"  the  other  answered  quickly,  "the  heir 
to  some  great  dukedom,  mayhap,  in  disguise 
to  see  the  world  and  make  a  fortune.  Tis  his 
desire  we  land,  so  much  he  told  me,  and  'tis  to 
learn  more  than  directions,  my  hearties,  and 
that  I'll  warrant  ye!  But,  look  ye,  the  water 
grows  too  shallow!  We  can  use  the  oars  no 
longer." 

And  even  as  he  spoke  the  boat  grated  upon 
the  pebbles.  An  incoming  breaker  would  have 
carried  it  ashore,  but  before  the  sailors  could 
take  advantage  of  this  help  or  even  so  much 
as  ship  their  oars,  half  a  dozen  swarthy  youths 
had  waded  out  and,  with  shouts  and  gestures, 
whether  of  welcome  or  hostility  the  English 
men  had  no  means  of  knowing,  pushed  it  high 
upon  the  beach.  At  once,  then,  for  well  they 


Eleven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

realized  the  danger  of  delay,  and  with  a  stolid 
courage  born  of  many  a  like  adventure,  the 
seamen  leaped  fearlessly  out  upon  the  sand. 
In  their  hands  they  held  aloft  bolts  of  brightly 
colored  cloth  snatched  on  the  instant  from  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  These  they  offered  for  the 
wondering  inspection  of  the  women  who,  ob 
serving  the  small  number  of  invaders,  were 
cautiously  returning.  To  the  warriors  grouped 
about  the  chief  they  proffered  knives  of  which 
the  steel  blades,  set  in  strong  handles  of  bone, 
glistened  in  the  sun.  Eagerly,  yet  with  a  cer 
tain  unexpected  formality,  the  men  accepted 
these,  passing  them  for  examination  from  one 
to  another  with  many  a  grunt  of  satisfaction. 
To  be  sure,  no  brave  among  them  but  might  the 
next  moment  decide  to  try  out  the  merits  of  his 
gift  upon  the  bestower,  but  this  danger  the  ad 
venturers  had  to  risk.  More  timidly  the 
women,  their  eyes  fixed  wistfully  upon  the 
gaudy  red  and  yellow  cloth,  approached  the 
strangers,  offering  in  their  turn  bits  of  abalone 
shell  polished  to  iridescent  beauty. 

They  seemed  in  truth  a  gentle,  friendly 
people,  so  much  so  that  at  length  the  sailors, 
deeming  it  safe  to  undertake  the  second  part 


Twelve 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

of  their  errand,  began  to  plead  for  water  and 
to  request,  besides,  an  interview  between  their 
captain  and  the  chief.  All  this  by  means  of 
signs  in  which  they  displayed  no  little  wit  and 
skill,  the  Englishmen  accomplished  until,  well 
on  toward  the  middle  of  the  morning,  they 
made  ready  to  return  to  the  ship,  the  casks 
they  had  brought  brimming  with  sweet  moun 
tain  water,  while  with  them  they  bore  as  well 
the  promise  of  an  interview  of  state  between 
the  great  chief  Torquam  and  Sir  Francis 
Drake,  to  take  place  upon  the  beach  at  sunset. 
And  then  at  once  the  little  village  of  Toyo- 
bet  seethed  again  with  excitement.  For  these 
good  pale-face  friends  and  their  god-like  com 
mander  a  fitting  welcome  must  be  prepared. 
Fleet-footed  messengers,  bearing  flaming 
torches,  sped  in  hot  haste  along  the  mountain 
trails  that  all  who  saw  might  know  without 
words  spoken  of  the  assembling  of  the  tribe. 
To  the  distant  village  at  the  isthmus  they  hur 
ried,  and  to  the  cove  on  the  western  coast, 
some  twenty  miles  away,  to  which  a  band  of 
warriors  had  gone  several  days  before  to  hunt 
the  otter.  That  no  one  among  his  people  might 
remain  in  ignorance  of  his  command,  Torquam 


Thirteen 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


even  caused  signal  fires  to  be  kindled  on  each 
of  the  twin  peaks,  extinct  volcanoes,  near  the 
center  of  the  island.  Smoke  rising  there  was 
visible  from  every  corner  of  his  land,  and  woe 
to  any  subject  who  dared  to  disregard  that 
warning! 

Throughout  the  long  bright  day  the  women 
toiled,  preparing  a  ceremonial  feast.  Three  an 
telope,  a  deer,  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  wild 
sheep  which  roamed  the  hills  were  killed  and 
placed  for  roasting  over  deep  pits  dug  in  the 
sand.  Nor  did  any  member  of  the  tribe  forget 
in  his  own  crude  fashion  to  deck  himself  for 
the  occasion.  The  warriors  adorned  their 
heads  with  feathers  and  daubed  their  cheeks 
and  lips  with  ochre.  The  women  clothed 
themselves  in  loose-hanging  tunics  of  doe 
skin  girt  with  strings  of  wampum,  and  hung 
about  their  tawny  shoulders  the  lovely  greens 
and  blues  of  uncut  turquoise.  Meanwhile, 
also,  the  great  chief  Torquam  donned  his 
ceremonial  dress,  a  string  of  eagle  feath 
ers  held  by  the  crimsoned  quills  of  the 
porcupine  and  extending  down  his  back  until 
almost  it  touched  the  ground.  About  his  neck, 
as  token  of  his  priesthood,  he  threw  the  bear- 


Fourteen 


A      ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 


claw  necklace,  known  far  and  wide  among 
the  tribes  for  its  famous  powers  of  healing. 
Wildenai  alone  made  no  change  except  to  bind 
the  satin  black  of  her  hair  still  more  smoothly 
within  a  fillet  of  silver.  In  the  center  of  the 
band,  so  that  it  rested  just  above  her  brow,  a 
strange  device  appeared,  a  circle  enclosing 
many  rays, — the  royal  insignia  of  the  tribe 
which  only  the  daughter  of  the  chief  might 
wear. 


Then  at  last  when,  in  the  sunset,  level  rays 
of  light  rested  golden  on  the  bay  and  turned  to 
amethyst  the  distant  mountains  on  the  main 
land,  all  was  ready.  Once  again,  this  time  to 
the  weird  music  of  tom-toms  and  the  beating 
of  drums,  a  boat  was  lowered  from  the  ship 
while  on  the  shore  the  Indians  watched. 

It  was  in  truth  a  picture  not  soon  to  be  for 
gotten.  Behind  the  mirrored  Bay  of  Moons, 
its  crescent  of  sand  gleaming  white  against  the 
rocks,  the  bands  of  dusky  men  and  women 
stood  motionless  as  statues  in  the  quiet  light  of 
the  setting  sun,  while  in  the  doorway  of  his 


Fifteen 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


lodge,  his  daughter  close  beside  him,  Torquam 
waited  with  simple  dignity  to  receive  his 
guests,  the  fair-skinned  strangers. 

At  length  along  the  beach  advanced  the 
little  group  of  English,  friends  and  fellow  ad 
venturers  with  the  most  renowned  of  all  their 
great  queen's  buccaneers.  Beside  Sir  Francis 
himself  marched  young  Harold  of  Wessex, 
little  more  than  a  boy  in  years,  yet  dreaded  and 
feared  in  his  own  land  even  then — a  possible 
heir  to  Elizabeth's  throne.  Some  short  dis 
tance  in  front  of  these  two,  standard  bearers 
carried  the  flags  of  Merry  England,  each  glori 
ous  with  fringes  and  tassels  of  gold.  Well 
might  such  banners  dazzle  the  eyes  and  wits  of 
simple  savages. 

Yet,  possibly,  for  all  that,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  lengthy  ceremonial  of  the  peace-pipe, 
Wildenai  could  not  have  taken  time  to  observe 
so  closely,  in  stolen  glances  from  beneath  her 
long  black  lashes,  the  splendor  of  the  young 
noble  standing  proudly  erect  beside  his  cap 
tain  ;  nor  could  he  have  stared  so  often,  with  no 
attempt  to  hide  his  admiration,  at  the  dark 
beauty  of  the  princess. 


Sixteen 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


Perhaps,  too,  if  fate  had  not  contrived  to 
place  them  side  by  side  at  the  feast  which  fol 
lowed,  young  Harold  might  never  have  dis 
covered  that  an  Indian  girl,  however  beautiful, 
possessed  the  wit  to  learn  a  foreign  language. 
Yet  it  was  certainly  Spanish  and  that  well 
spoken  in  which,  at  length,  she  softly  asked  of 
her  father  a  question  intended  obviously  for 
himself. 

Under  cover  of  one  of  the  Indian  dances 
with  which,  from  time  to  time,  the  feast  was  en 
livened,  he  leaned  impulsively  toward  her. 

"Can'st  speak  the  Spanish  tongue?"  he 
hastily  inquired. 

The  princess  dropped  her  eyes.  For  a  mo 
ment  she  remained  silent  as  if  debating  to  what 
extent  such  boldness  might  involve  her.  Then, 
with  a  glance  as  shy  as  if  some  deer  gazed  at 
him  startled  from  the  thicket, 

"Yes,  mon  senor,"  she  answered  simply. 
"I  learned  it  when  Don  Cabrillo  came  to 
Punagwandah  many  moons  ago." 

After  that  it  was  only  that  one  thing  led  to 
another,  as  was  sometimes  true  of  men  and 
maidens  even  in  the  days  so  long  gone  by.  For, 
as  if  by  common  consent,  then,  they  drew  a 


Seventeen 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


little  apart  from  the  rest,  where,  throwing  him 
self  on  the  sand  beside  her  while  the  firelight 
threw  flickering  shadows  among  the  rocks,  the 
young  man  related  fragments  of  his  story, — of 
the  long  journey  across  the  sea,  something  of 
his  home  in  England,  and  of  the  brilliant  court 
of  the  great  queen  wherein  he  had  served  as 
gentleman-in-waiting.  So  had  he  served,  yet 
soon, — but  here  her  guest  had  suddenly  flushed 
and  paused  as  though  he  spoke  too  hastily  or 
of  what  he  should  not.  To  all  of  it  the  princess 
listened  with  fast-beating  heart  and  a  desire, 
ever  growing,  to  make  herself  a  place  in  this 
splendid  stranger's  world.  Was  not  she  then, 
also,  the  daughter  of  a  king?  Yet  how  differ 
ent  and  how  unimportant  beside  that  wonder 
ful  woman  of  whom  he  spoke!  For  father  she 
boasted  the  great  chief  Torquam,  feared  by 
every  tribe  in  the  north  and  rich  because  of  the 
gold  hidden  in  many  a  canyon  among  the  dis 
tant  mountains ;  yet  her  woman's  instinct  told 
her  that  to  this  proud  Englishman  her  people 
were  at  best  little  more  than  a  curiosity,  almost, 
indeed,  a  cause  for  laughter. 

When  at  last  the  feast  was  finished,  Tor 
quam  rose,  and  removing  with  slow  solemnity 


Eighteen 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


his  crest  of  eagle  feathers,  he  placed  it  upon 
the  head  of  Sir  Francis,  a  seal  of  everlasting 
friendship.  With  difficulty  young  Harold 
suppressed  a  smile.  But  the  older  man,  as  well 
aware  of  what  the  situation  demanded  as  he 
was  keenly  alive  to  its  danger,  received  the  at 
tention  with  a  gravity  fully  equal  to  that  of 
his  host.  Indeed,  he  went  still  further. 

4 'Most  gracious  hast  thou  been,  oh  Tor- 
quam,  all  wise  chief  of  the  Mariposa,"  he  be 
gan  in  carefully  chosen  Spanish,  "nor  shall 
thy  kingly  gift  remain  unrequited.  Listen,  oh 
Torquam !  On  yonder  vessel  I  carry  steeds  like 
those  of  which  I  told  you.  For  a  journey  over 
the  mountains  of  the  north  we  have  brought 
them.  One  there  is,  swifter  of  foot  than  all 
the  rest.  Him  will  I  cause  my  men  to  lower 
into  the  boat  and  bring  to  you  after  our  return 
tonight." 

In  silence  Torquam  inclined  his  head. 
Nothing  could  have  pleased  him  more.  He 
would  be  the  first  then,  of  all  his  tribe  to  own 
one  of  those  strange  yet  wondrous  creatures 
never  before  seen  in  his  world  until  the  Span 
ish  landed!  Yet  only  the  eager  gleam  in  his 
eyes  betrayed  his  pleasure.  But  Harold  of 


Nineteen 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

Wessex  stared  at  his  captain  in  blank  astonish 
ment,  for  the  gift  he  had  just  bestowed  with 
such  apparent  carelessness  was  the  most  valu 
able  bit  of  cargo  in  the  ship,  a  costly  Arabian 
horse  intended  for  the  young  noble's  own  spe 
cial  comfort  and  convenience  during  the  search 
for  gold  on  which  they  were  bound.  Was  Drake 
gone  suddenly  mad,  then,  thus  to  throw  away, 
and  that  without  permission,  his  choicest  prop 
erty  on  a  mere  savage  ?  Hot  with  resentment 
he  was  about  to  interfere;  but  before  he  could 
obey  the  rash  impulse  his  better  judgment  pre 
vailed,  and  just  in  time  he  remembered  how, 
on  several  other  such  occasions,  his  very  life 
had  been  saved  by  some  swift  expedient  of 
Drake's  and  his  tact  in  handling  the  natives. 

Slowly  Sir  Francis  continued,  and  now 
one  watching  intently  might  have  sensed  from 
the  gleam  in  his  eyes  that  he  had  reached  the 
real  point  in  the  interview. 

"One  question,  nevertheless,  would  I  ask 
of  all-wise  Torquam  before  we  part."  He  hesi 
tated,  searching  the  impassive  face  of  the  In 
dian.  "Can'st  tell  me  of  a  Spaniard,  one  Ca- 
brillo,  son  to  that  arch  pirate  of  Spain,  who, 
since  his  father's  death,  still  sails  upon  these 


Twenty 


ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 


waters?  To  him  I  bear  a  message," — again 
he  paused  while  the  heart  of  Wildenai  beat  in 
sudden  panic  beneath  her  fawnskin  tunic;  but 
Torquam's  face  remained  blank  as  a  page  un 
written, — "a  message  from  our  queen/'  added 
Drake.  The  last  words  were  uttered  with  sig 
nificance. 

The  Indian  slowly  shook  his  head. 

"The  noble  white  chief  asks  what  is  un 
known  to  any  man,"  he  answered.  "The  young 
Cabrillo  once  landed,  'tis  true,  on  Punagwan- 
dah.  Many  moons  ago  it  was.  Where  he  is 
now,  how  should  Torquam  know?" 

In  his  bitter  disappointment  the  hand  of 
the  Englishman  sought  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 
Instantly  a  ring  of  warriors  closed  darkly  about 
the  chief. 

Drake  laughed. 

"Nay  then,  'tis  but  by  chance  I  asked  thee, 
thinking  thou  mightst  tell  me.  It  matters  not. 
The  gift  I  promised  thee  will  come,  as  I  said, 
tonight." 

He  turned  to  go  and  young  Harold  rose  to 
follow.  Then,  perceiving  the  dark  eyes  of  the 
princess  fixed  wistfully  upon  him,  he  hesitated 

Twenty-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


and,  obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  he  stepped 
hastily  to  her  side. 

"When  they  return  with  the  gift  for  thy 
father,"  he  whispered,  "I  will  come  with 
them,"  he  smiled  into  her  soft  eyes  shining 
with  pleased  surprise,  "and  I  will  bring  a  gift 
to  thee  as  well,  oh  Wildenai,  fairest  of 
maidens!" 

Drake  gave  a  sharp  command.  His  follow 
ers  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  without  further 
ceremony  the  party  passed  quickly  down  the 
beach  to  their  boat. 

But  the  princess  Wildenai  did  not  leave 
the  feasting  ground.  Hidden  by  deepening 
shadows  she  watched  the  ship's  lights  glim 
mer  across  the  water.  Glad  indeed  was  she  of 
the  darkness,  for  a  warm  flush  glowed  in  her 
cheeks  and  her  heart  throbbed  with  a  strange 
new  pleasure,  a  pleasure  bordering  close  on 
fear,  yet  wholly  sweet. 

But  when,  at  length,  the  quiet  of  sleep  had 
descended  upon  the  village,  once  again  she 
sought  her  father.  He,  too,  within  the  open 
doorway  of  his  lodge,  watched  intently  the 
distant  ship.  Without  surprise  he  saw  his 
daughter  enter  and,  as  she  knelt  upon  the 


Twenty-two 


ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


blanket  beside  him,  he  stretched  a  hand  and 
drew  her  close. 

"It  grows  cold.  The  wind  is  rising. 
'Twere  best  to  wait  inside."  He  spoke  in  the 
musical  Indian  tongue.  For  a  moment  he 
stroked  her  hair  in  silence,  then — 

"What  think'st  thou  by  now  of  the  English, 
Wildenai,  my  little  wild  rose?"  he  asked. 

But  the  princess  seemed  not  to  have  heard 
his  question. 

"My  father,"  she  began  after  another  short 
silence,  "I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  thee." 

"And  what  may  that  be,  my  daughter?" 
he  returned  gravely. 

But  again  the  young  girl  made  no  answer 
and  for  many  minutes  they  watched  the  trem 
ulous  paths  of  light  in  the  wake  of  the  vessel. 

After  a  time  he  felt  her  hand  tighten  upon 
his  arm. 

"It  is  but  the  old  boon  over  again,  my 
father."  Her  voice  was  low  as  the  sighing  of 
the  wind  among  the  oak  trees.  "I  would  be 
freed  from  my  promise  to  wed  with  Don 
Cabrillo." 

An  Indian  is  not  given  to  caresses.  Much 
more  used  was  Torquam's  hand  to  wield  the 

Twenty-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


war-club  or  the  hatchet.  Yet  it  was  with  fin 
gers  gentle  as  any  woman's  that  he  stroked 
the  smooth  black  head  at  his  knee. 

"Doubtest  thou  then,  my  motherless  one, 
the  judgment  of  him  who  loves  thee?"  he 
asked. 

"I  doubt  it  not,  my  father,"  answered  his 
daughter.  "Yet  would  I  not  wed  with  the 
Spaniard,"  she  added  stubbornly. 

The  blue-eyed  senor  from  England" — 
there  was  a  hint  of  humor  in  his  tone, — "he  it 
is  who  steals  thy  fancy!  Is  it  not  so,  my 
Wildenai?" 

Then,  after  a  moment:  "Right  well 
knowest  thou  my  only  wish  is  to  make  thee 
happy."  Again  his  voice,  though  gentle,  grew 
serious  almost  to  sadness.  "No  mere  whim  it 
is  that  counsels  me  to  wed  thee  to  Cabrillo. 
"There  is  something — "  He  paused,  continu 
ing  with  effort, — "a  reason  I  have  never  told 
thee  why  it  seems  most  fitting.  Now  I  will  tell 
thee.  That  reason  is  because, — because,  my 
Wildenai,  thou  art  Spanish  born  thyself." 

The  princess  drew  a  hasty  breath.  In  the 
darkness  he  felt  rather  than  saw  her  startled 
eyes  upon  him. 

Twenty- four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"My  father!"  The  exclamation,  filled  with 
pain  as  well  as  astonishment,  touched  him  to 
the  quick.  Tenderly  he  drew  her  to  him.  Then 
briefly,  as  was  the  Indian  way,  yet  with  the  pic 
tured  phrasing  which  caused  each  scene  to 
spring  into  vivid  life  before  the  young  girl's 
eyes,  he  told  her  of  the  day,  already  more  than 
eighteen  years  gone  by,  when,  in  the  wake  of 
a  long  midwinter  storm,  the  first  sailing  vessel 
ever  beheld  by  his  people  had  fled  for  refuge  to 
their  bay;  and  of  the  little  girl  carefully 
brought  to  shore  by  her  old  nurse  in  the  first 
boat  to  touch  the  beach.  A  mere  baby  she  was, 
too  young  to  know  aught  of  her  misfortune, 
yet  a  princess  royal,  rudely  dispossessed  of  her 
right  to  the  throne  of  Spain,  and  smuggled 
aboard  the  adventurer  Cabrillo's  ship  to  be 
dropped  in  some  out-of-the-way  corner  of  the 
western  world.  Even  then,  he  made  it  clear, 
she  might  have  perished, — since  little  recked 
the  Spanish  explorer  what  should  happen,  well 
knowing  that  upon  his  return  no  questions 
would  be  asked,  —  had  it  not  been  for  his 
Indian  wife.  She,  lacking  children  of  her  own, 
had  taken  an  instant  fancy  to  the  dark-eyed 
little  girl,  a  fancy  so  strong  that  nothing  would 


Twenty-five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


do  but  they  must  adopt  her  as  their  own 
daughter  into  the  tribe  to  belong  forever,  ac 
cording  to  their  law,  she  and  her  children,  to 
the  Mariposa. 

"Nor,  because  thy  mother — for  ever  was 
she  a  true  mother  to  thee — thought  that  it 
might  grieve  thee,  have  any  of  my  people  ever 
given  thee  cause  to  doubt  that  thou  wert  native 
born,"  he  finished  proudly.  "Loyal  have  they 
been,  doing  all  they  could  to  make  thee  happy. 
But  now  that  thy  Indian  mother  is  dead,  and  I 
myself  grow  old,  I  thought  to  wed  thee,  know 
ing  his  desire,  to  the  son  of  that  same  Cabrillo 
who  brought  thee  to  us,  for  I  long  to  be  sure, 
when  at  length  I  go,  that  thou  art  safe, — at 
home." 

He  waited  then  and  in  the  silence  only  the 
low  weeping  of  the  girl  was  heard.  At  length 
the  old  chief  spoke  again,  and  now  in  his  voice 
love  conquered  disappointment. 

"Much  do  I  desire  it,  but  that  matters  not. 
I  would  not  have  thee  unhappy.  I  myself  will 
tell  the  senor  that  what  he  hopes  for  can 
not  be." 

Slowly  Wildenai  bent  her  head  until  it 
touched  his  feet.  Then  she  nestled  close 
against  him. 


Twenty-six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

"I  thank  thee,  oh  my  father!"  she  cried, 
and  all  her  voice  was  music  because  of  her  joy. 
"And  thou  art  still  my  father,"  she  added, 
earnestly.  "What  care  I  to  go  to  Spain?  I 
will  stay  always  with  thee." 

"For  a  time,  it  may  be.  Yet  have  a  care, 
little  wild  rose,"  he  cautioned,  smiling,  "Let 
not  the  Englishman  lure  thee  away!  He,  too, 
may  not  be  all  that  thou  thinkest." 

And  even  as  he  spoke,  in  mocking  con 
firmation  of  his  words,  there  came  to  them 
suddenly  from  across  the  water,  the  distant 
creaking  of  ropes,  the  snapping  of  sails  flung 
hastily  to  the  wind.  Before  their  unbelieving 
eyes  the  vessel  swung  about  and  put  slowly 
out  to  sea.  Dumb  with  amazement  they 
watched  until  the  last  faint  light  flickered  into 
darkness.  Not  until  the  remotest  chance  of  a 
mistake  was  past  did  the  old  chief  rise,  tremb 
ling  with  rage,  to  his  feet. 

"See'st  thou  now  what  I  meant,  my 
daughter?  The  English  pale- faces  know  not 
the  meaning  of  honor, — no,  nor  of  gratitude 
either!" 

He  lifted  his  long  spear  from  the  ground 
and  shook  it  fiercely. 


Twenty- seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

'The  words  of  the  Mariposa  are  few/'  he 
cried,  "but  their  revenge  is  sure.  Let  but  an 
Englishman  set  foot  again  on  Punagwandah 
and,  swifter  than  the  arrow  leaves  the  bow 
string,  he  dies!" 

And  at  once,  without  answer,  in  the  silence 
of  suffering  which  only  the  wild  things  of  the 
earth  understand,  Wildenai  crept  from  the 
lodge,  her  heart  heavy  with  its  own  bitter  disap 
pointment.  Noiselessly  she  passed  among  the 
tepees  where  her  father's  people  slept.  Not 
one  of  them  should  ever  know  how  far  dwelt 
slumber  from  her  own  eyes  that  night.  Up 
the  steep  trail  beyond  the  Bay  of  Moons  she 
climbed  and  flung  herself  weeping  on  the  bed 
of  skins  within  the  cavern. 

"Oh,  thou  false  one,"  she  moaned,  "why 
did'st  thou  promise  then,  when  never  did'st 
thou  mean  to  keep  it?" 


Yet  nothing  had  been  farther  from  the 
young  Englishman's  thoughts  when  he  left 
her  than  faithlessness  to  his  word.  On  reach 
ing  the  ship  again  he  had  gone  directly  to  his 

Twenty- eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 


cabin.  Here  he  took  from  its  small  but  richly 
embroidered  case  a  slender  chain  of  gold, 
threaded  so  closely  with  garnets  that  even  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  one  flaring  lantern,  the  only 
illumination  the  room  could  boast,  it  glowed,  a 
glancing  stream  of  crimson,  in  his  hand.  This 
he  carried  to  the  light  and  as  he  examined  it 
under  the  lantern  he  smiled. 

"Never  saw  the  little  maid  such  jewels  be 
fore,  I'll  warrant  me!  Yet,  beshrew  my  heart, 
but  she  deserves  them.  Indian  though  she  be, 
still  is  she,  nevertheless,  the  loveliest  woman 
that  ever  mine  eyes  have  looked  upon!" 

Then,  stowing  the  necklace  carefully  away 
in  his  belt,  he  went  at  once  in  search  of  the 
commander. 

But  at  this  point  an  unexpected  difficulty 
had  presented  itself.  He  found  Sir  Francis  in 
close  conversation  with  his  pilot. 

"Marry,  Sir,  an  it  fit  n'er  so  ill  with  thy 
wish,"  the  keen-eyed  old  mariner  was  saying. 
"I  still  maintain  it  were  a  shame  to  lose  this 
wind.  Gift  or  no  gift,  I've  sailed  these  lati 
tudes  before,  my  lord,  and  by  heaven  I  swear 
we're  not  like  to  have  such  another  breeze,  no, 
not  till  the  change  of  the  moon,  and  that  you 
know  yourself,  sir,  is  a  good  fortnight  hence." 

Twenty-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

Sir  Francis,  striding  back  and  forth  within 
the  narrow  confines  of  the  quarter  deck,  ap 
peared  to  be  weighing  the  old  man's  words 
with  unusual  care.  At  length,  however,  he 
turned  as  one  who  has  made  his  decision. 

"By  the  mass  and  it  shall  be  even  as  you 
say,  Jarvis,"  he  declared.  "I  think  myself 
'twere  well  to  push  on  at  once.  At  the  most 
they  be  but  Indians!"  The  last  words  were 
spoken  in  a  lower  tone  as  if  to  himself.  "  Twill 
matter  little  either  way!" 

It  was  at  this  point  that  young  Harold 
stepped  hastily  forward.  For,  strangely 
enough,  although  on  the  morning  of  that  same 
day  such  a  proceeding  would  scarcely  have  ap 
pealed  to  him  as  being  at  all  unfitting  or  out 
of  the  ordinary,  yet  now  it  seemed  unthinkable. 

"But,  good  sir,"  he  interrupted,  "you 
would  not  so  belie  your  promise!  To  do  as 
Jarvis  here  advises, — by  heaven,  'twould  be 
neither  truthful  nor  honorable!  Tis  not  like 
you,  Sir  Francis!" 

Drake  shot  at  him  a  surprised  glance  from 
under  his  bushy  eyebrows,  then  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 


Thirty 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

"Prate  not  to  me,  my  lord,  of  truth  or 
honor  amongst  these  savages,"  he  replied. 
"Did  not  their  chief  himself  but  even  now  lie 
to  me  ?  Well  knew  the  rascally  heathen  where 
the  Spaniard  hides!  The  truth  indeed!  They 
know  not  the  meaning  of  such  words." 

In  vain  the  younger  man  petitioned  to  be 
allowed  to  deliver  the  promised  gift  with  the 
aid  of  his  own  retinue. 

"Thou  can'st  not  get  under  way  for  two 
hours  at  best,  sir,"  he  pleaded,  "and  well  with 
in  that  time  I  will  be  back.  Tis  but  a  stone's 
throw  to  the  shore!" 

But  Drake  first  scoffed  at  his  rashness, 
then,  finally  losing  patience,  as  commander  of 
the  expedition  he  sternly  forbade  him  or  any 
of  his  men  to  leave  the  ship. 

"We  dare  not  lose  the  wind,"  he  finished 
emphatically,  "and  are  like  to  start  at  any 
minute."  Then,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  strode 
away  to  his  cabin  and  shut  the  door  behind 
him. 

Left  in  this  unceremonious  fashion,  young 
Harold  considered  a  moment,  glancing  with 
anxious  eyes  at  the  dim  line  of  the  coast  just 
visible  in  the  darkness.  For  some  minutes  he 
leaned  upon  the  rail,  lost  in  thought. 

Thirty-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


'The  old  man  will  e'en  have  to  bear  his 
disappointment,  "he  muttered  at  length,  "but, 
an'  heaven  help  me,  the  maid  shall  not!" 

Then  he,  too,  left  the  deck  to  seek  out  his 
favorite  retainer,  the  dark,  swarthy  man  who 
had  sat  that  morning  in  the  prow  of  the  long 
boat.  To  him  he  explained  his  difficulty,  add 
ing  grimly: 

"And  so  thou  see'st,  Mortimer,  that  I  have 
work  cut  out  for  thee!" 

He  threw  an  arm  about  the  other's  shoul 
ders  and  in  this  familiar  fashion  the  two  men 
paced  the  deck  together,  conversing  in  low 
tones. 

"And  besides,"  observed  the  nobleman  as 
they  paused  a  moment  before  parting, 
"would'st  know  the  truth  about  the  matter? 
For  all  old  Jarvis'  prating,  the  Golden  Hind  is 
not  like  to  sail  before  the  dawn,  no,  nor  even 
then!  Jarvis  is  ever  the  man  to  make  a  show 
of  much  hurry,  but — "  he  snapped  his  fingers 
scornfully,  "only  aid  me  now,  unseen  by  any 
one,  to  launch  the  Zephir,  and  by  our  virgin 
queen  herself  I  swear,  when  once  again  we  see 
the  shores  of  Merry  England,  thou  shalt  find 
'twas  well  worth  thy  trouble." 


Thirty- two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CAT A  LIN  A 


His  companion  smiled  even  while,  with  the 
trained  servility  of  the  retainer,  he  doffed  his 
cap. 

"Aye,  truly,  my  lord,"  he  answered,  "but, 
since  it  were  an  impossible  feat  to  get  so  much 
as  a  colt  into  the  Zephir,  methinks  thou  hast 
a  gift  of  thine  own  to  bestow  on  yonder  pretty 
Indian  maid!" 

The  blood  leaped  to  Sir  Harry's  cheek. 
With  a  quick  gesture  he  placed  his  hand  upon 
his  sword. 

"Presume  not  upon  my  favor,  Mortimer,  or 
by  heaven! — "  he  began  angrily,  but  stopped 
suddenly  as,  with  a  fearless  laugh,  the  man 
beside  him  pushed  the  half-drawn  weapon 
back  into  its  place. 

"Nay  then,  not  so  fast,  my  lord,"  he 
chuckled  gaily.  "Hearkee,  my  master.  I  did 
but  use  my  eyes  during  their  everlasting  pow 
wow.  Surely  ye  would  not  grudge  me  that! 
And  the  maid  is  comely,  well  worth  a  trinket 
from  thy  store.  Besides,"  he  laughed  slyly, 
"I  saw  e'en  more  to  thine  interest,  for  me 
thinks  the  princess  is  as  much  in  love  with  thy 
looks  as  art  thou  with  hers." 

"Silence,  fool!  Thou  hast  said  more  than 
enough  already.  Think'st  thou  the  son  of  a 

Thirty-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


duke  royal  would  look  at  a  brown-skinned  sav 
age,  an  unbelieving  pagan,  no  matter  how 
comely,  as  thou  call'st  it,  she  might  be!" 

But  the  flush  remained,  nevertheless,  on 
the  dark  cheek  of  the  young  nobleman  as  he 
strode  angrily  from  the  deck. 


The  moonlight  had  laid  a  quivering  path 
of  light  across  the  water  before  Wildenai 
raised  her  bowed  head  from  the  ground.  But, 
at  length,  drawing  her  blanket  more  closely 
about  her,  for  into  the  night  air  the  chill  of 
the  ocean  had  crept,  she  was  about  to  leave  the 
cave  when  a  sudden  sound  from  the  beach  be 
low  arrested  her.  For  a  moment  she  listened 
in  silence  while  the  shout  was  repeated,  then 
stood  dumb  with  amazement.  A  third  time  it 
came  to  her,  borne  on  the  rising  wind,  the  ter 
rified  cry  of  a  man  in  dire  distress.  Nor  was  it 
one  of  her  own  people  who  thus  called  out  of 
the  darkness  for  help.  Swiftly  she  ran  to  an 
overhanging  ledge  of  rock  from  which,  by  ly 
ing  flat  and  peeping  over,  she  could,  without 
exposing  herself,  command  a  wide  view  of 
the  sea. 

Thirty-four 


A      ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 


At  the  first  glance  there  appeared  to  be 
nothing  amiss.  Far  beneath  her  the  noisy 
breakers  spilled  in  liquid  silver  on  the  beach. 
Above  their  musical  booming  no  other  sound 
could  be  heard.  Then  suddenly  she  saw  him. 
A  tiny  boat  it  was,  tossing  dangerously  close 
to  the  great  rounded  boulder  which,  together 
with  a  still  larger  one  from  which  it  had  at  some 
distant  time  been  broken  off,  formed  the  outer 
most  boundary  of  the  curving  Beach  of  Moons. 
The  dark  figure  standing  erect  in  the  boat 
strove  with  the  aid  of  an  oar  to  keep  it  from 
being  dashed  to  pieces  against  the  giant  rock. 
Again  there  floated  up  to  her  the  desperate  call 
for  help.  The  voice  was  that  of  the  English 
noble ! 

Instantly  the  girl  sprang  to  her  feet,  and 
without  the  slightest  hesitation  ran  lightly 
down  the  perilous  incline,  leaping  fearlessly 
from  rock  to  rock,  until,  within  a  few  seconds, 
she  stood  poised  above  the  seething  surf  on  the 
top  of  the  larger  boulder.  Here,  balancing  her 
self  as  easily  and  securely  as  a  wild  antelope, 
she  raised  her  arms  to  dive.  But  now  from  the 
shadows  below  the  white  man  called  once 
more. 


Thirty- five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

"Attempt  it  not,  oh  Wildenai!  Tis  death 
to  leap  from  there!" 

But  without  waiting  even  to  reply,  the  In 
dian  girl  sprang  into  the  waves.  An  instant 
later  and  he  saw  her  arms  gleam  in  the  moon 
light  as,  with  the  strong  slow  strokes  of  an  ex 
perienced  swimmer,  she  struck  out  for  the  boat. 
In  spite  of  the  perilous  rocking  of  the  little 
craft  he  rested  on  his  oar  to  watch  her  for  a 
moment  in  sheer  admiration  of  her  skill.  But 
the  maid  knew  well  the  danger  of  every  in 
stant's  delay.  In  the  very  nick  of  time  she 
seemed  almost  to  throw  herself  between  him 
and  the  rocks  while,  with  a  strength  he  would 
have  believed  impossible  in  one  so  small,  she 
pulled  the  boat  around.  Then,  still  swimming 
and  without  a  word  to  him,  she  began  to  push 
it  ahead  of  her  toward  the  shore.  It  was  but 
a  few  minutes  before  they  stood  together  on 
the  beach. 

And  now  the  young  noble,  overcome  with 
gratitude,  fell  on  his  knees  before  her  and 
caught  her  hand  between  his  own.  He  would 
have  kissed  it  in  sheer  joy  at  his  escape,  but  the 
Indian  girl  drew  sharply  back. 


Thirty- six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

* 'Quick!"  she  whispered,  yet  remembering 
to  speak  in  Spanish,  "You  must  hide  yourself 
at  once.  My  father  will  kill  you  if  he  should 
find  you  here!" 

Swiftly  she  concealed  the  boat  in  a  tiny 
cove  behind  the  boulder,  a  hiding  place  he 
would  never  have  seen  though  it  was  appar 
ently  perfectly  familiar  to  her. 

"  Sometimes  my  own  canoe  I  keep  there 
too,"  she  whispered.  "Now  come!"  and  she 
hurried  him  along  the  beach  and  up  an  easier 
trail  beyond  the  rocks  to  her  cavern  bower 
above. 

Nor  did  she  pause  for  an  instant's  rest  un 
til  they  had  passed  safely  behind  the  manza- 
nita  branches  which  concealed  the  entrance. 
Here,  motioning  him  to  do  the  same,  she 
dropped  upon  a  pile  of  skins.  But  instead,  in 
real  concern,  the  young  Englishman  knelt 
again  beside  her. 

"Thou  art  so  wet  and  cold,"  he  began  anx 
iously,  "Will  it  not  make  thee  ill?  Yet  'twas  a 
wondrous  feat,"  he  added  admiringly,  "well 
conceived  and  carried  out  with  skill  such  as 
any  man  might  envy!" 

The  princess  laughed. 


Thirty- seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


Twas  nothing,"  she  answered  briefly.  "I 
do  it  almost  every  day." 

"I  came  to  bring  to  thee  the  gift  I  prom 
ised,"  explained  Lord  Harold  then,  and  from 
his  belt  he  drew  the  little  case.  Eagerly  he 
flung  the  gleaming  string  of  garnets  about  her 
slim  brown  throat. 

"Jewels  brought  by  my  father  to  my  moth 
er  on  the  morning  of  their  marriage,"  he  told 
her.  "When  she  lay  dying  she  gave  them  me 
and  told  me  never  to  part  with  them  except  I 
gave  them  to  my — "  He  paused  suddenly, 
"But  thou  hast  saved  my  life!"  he  added  as 
quickly,  "Who  else  could  ever  deserve  them 
more?  Well  know  I  my  mother  would  wish 
thee  to  have  them." 

Silently,  though  her  eyes  were  bright  with 
pleasure,  the  princess  lifted  the  beautiful  neck 
lace. 

"Wildenai  will  wear  them  always,  senor 
lord,"  she  answered  softly,  "for  now  she 
knows  that  truly  you  did  mean  to  keep  your 
word!" 

And  so,  his  mission  accomplished,  her 
guest  rose  hastily  to  his  feet.  He  must  return 
immediately  to  the  ship. 

Thirty- eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"Know  you  not,  then,  that  it  is  gone?"  ex 
claimed  the  girl,  amazed. 

"Gone?"  echoed  young  Harold,  and  stared 
at  her  astounded.  He  seemed  not  to  have 
grasped  her  meaning.  "Gone,  said'st  thou?" 

"The  ship  was  out  of  sight  a  full  hour  or 
more  ere  ever  I  heard  you  call,"  she  explained. 

Still  he  continued  to  gaze  at  her  fixedly  as 
if  totally  unable  to  comprehend  what  she  would 
have  him  know.  Then  it  was  plain  to  be  seen 
that,  for  the  moment  at  least,  blank  despair 
took  hold  upon  him.  Up  and  down  the  length 
of  the  cave  he  strode  like  some  imprisoned 
wild  thing.  At  length,  standing  quite  still  with 
folded  arms,  he  seemed  to  lose  himself  in 
thought. 

"Battling  with  the  surf  I  did  not  see  nor 
hear,"  he  muttered  at  last.  "But  he  could 
not  sail  without  me!"  he  added.  Fiercely  he 
raised  his  head  and  his  eyes  flashed.  "He  dare 
not  so  betray  me!" 

Wildenai,  too,  had  been  considering. 

"The  great  white  captain  knew,  then,  that 
you  were  not  on  board?"  she  asked  suddenly. 

"No,"  replied  the  young  man  reluctantly, 
"that  did  he  not.  I  came  without  his  knowl- 


Thirty-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


edge.  He  would  have  prevented  me,"  he  con 
tinued  stubbornly,  "and  I  had  promised  thee  a 
gift.  Never  did  I  break  my  word,  nor  would 
not  then.  But  I  did  not  dream  it  possible  they 
could  get  away  so  soon !  By  our  virgin  lady  in 
Heaven  I  swear  I  know  not  what  to  do."  And 
once  more  he  seemed  lost  in  despair. 

But  only  for  a  moment.  Then  he  turned 
hastily  to  the  entrance. 

"I  must  follow  them  at  once,"  he  declared 
impatiently,  "I  can  overtake  them  even  yet." 

Swift  as  lightning  the  girl  threw  herself 
between  him  and  the  opening  in  the  cave. 

"No,  no,  senor  Englishman,"  she  cried. 
"It  is  impossible!  Listen,  only  listen  to  me! 
What  have  you,  then,  to  steer  by  save  the 
stars?  And  you  see  that,  drowned  in  moon 
light,  they  do  not  shine  tonight.  And,  more 
than  that,  you  do  not  even  know  what  course 
the  vessel  takes.  Remember,  too,  that  there  is 
neither  food  nor  drink  within  your  boat.  You 
would  surely  die  ere  you  could  ever  find  the 
ship." 

Gradually  she  compelled  him  to  listen  to 
reason  until,  seating  himself  again  upon  the 
skins,  he  challenged  her  still  further. 


Forty 


A      ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 

"But  what,  then,  shall  I  do?"  he  demand 
ed.  "Can'st  also  tell  me  that?" 

And  with  equal  readiness  the  princess  re 
plied  : 

"If  you  will  but  let  me  I  can  hide  you  here. 
The  cavern  is  my  own.  Here  for  many  a  moon 
have  I  worked  and  waited.  No  one  would 
dare  to  enter.  You  will  be  safe.  Besides,  my 
father's  anger  will  grow  cold  in  time,  and  then 
I  know  that,  if  I  ask  him,  he  will  help  you." 

His  chin  propped  upon  his  hands,  the 
young  nobleman  moodily  considered. 

"Well,  do  then  as  thou  deemest  best,"  he 
told  her  finally. 

And  from  that  moment  there  began  for  the 
little  princess  a  time  so  wonderful  that  for  all 
the  rest  of  her  life  she  remembered  each  sep 
arate  hour  as  though  it  had  been  some  beauti 
ful  word  in  a  poem  learned  by  heart. 

With  deft  fingers  she  piled  her  softest  doe 
skins  for  his  bed. 

"But  what  wilt  thou  do,  tell  me,  if  I  rob 
thee  of  thy  nest?"  he  asked,  watching  her  with 
amused  eyes  as  she  worked. 

"I  go  always  to  the  village  to  sleep,"  she 
answered  simply,  and  so  left  him. 


Forty-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

But  in  the  morning  while  yet  the  red  of 
sunrise  burned  above  the  great  peak  Orazaba, 
she  returned,  bearing  upon  her  head  an  olla  of 
carved  stone  filled  with  water  from  a  mountain 
spring.  This  in  smiling  silence  she  set  before 
him  and  disappeared.  Within  the  hour,  how 
ever,  she  was  back  again  and  this  time,  kneel 
ing  on  the  ground,  she  laid  at  his  feet  the  ripe 
fruit  of  the  manzanita  tree,  lying  like  small  red 
apples,  dewy  fresh,  upon  a  wild-grape  leaf. 

"Ala — ate,  see!  Are  they  not  good?"  she 
asked  triumphantly. 

And  so  from  day  to  day  she  ministered  to 
him.  Many  a  time  as  he  sat,  listless  and 
moody,  within  his  hiding-place,  a  handful  of 
wild  strawberries,  steeped  in  the  warm  sweet 
ness  of  the  hills,  would  be  pushed  beneath  the 
leafy  branches  that  concealed  the  door.  Some 
times  she  brought  him  bread  baked  from  a 
curious  kind  of  meal  made  of  pounded  seeds. 

Once,  too,  when  a  sudden  storm  had 
chilled  the  air,  she  kindled  a  fire  for  him  with 
in  a  smaller  cave,  receding  like  a  fire-place  into 
the  rocky  wall  opposite  the  opening.  It  was  a 
long  and  tedious  process  which  the  man 
watched  curiously.  First,  kneeling  on  the 


Forty- two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

ground,  she  rubbed  together  two  dry  willow 
sticks  until  a  little  pile  of  dust  had  gathered. 
Then,  still  stooping,  she  struck  two  flints  to 
gether  until  at  last  a  spark  fell  into  the  dust. 
Some  dry  leaves  were  dropped  upon  the  tiny 
blaze,  then  twigs,  and  lo,  a  fire! 

In  spite  of  himself  the  Englishman  smiled, 
though  a  softer  feeling  shown  in  his  eyes.  How 
beautiful  and  yet  how  childish  she  looked 
kneeling  there  with  the  anxious  pucker  be 
tween  her  brows.  Poor  little  princess,  how  very 
hard  she  worked  to  serve  him ! 

"It  takes  a  long  time,  Wildenai,"  he  ob 
served,  "dost  thou  try  it  often?" 

"Never  for  myself,"  she  answered  gravely. 
"I  have  no  need.  But  I  do  it  gladly  for  you." 
She  smiled  brightly  back  at  him,  then  rose  and 
moved  swiftly  to  the  doorway.  "Another 
thing  I  do  for  you  today.  Wait!" 

And  when  she  returned  a  few  minutes  later 
she  brought  with  her,  carefully  wrapped  in 
cool  green  leaves,  a  fish  freshly  caught  that 
morning. 

"A  brook  trout,  on  my  word,  such  as  I  have 
often  taken  in  the  streams  at  home!"  ex 
claimed  Lord  Harold,  amazed. 


Forty- three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


"I  got  it  far  up  the  canyon  before  the  sun 
was  risen,"  she  answered,  delighted  at  his 
surprise. 

This,  having  quickly  dressed  it,  she 
wrapped  again  in  leaves  and  placed  under  the 
hot  ashes  to  bake,  and  it  being,  evidently,  a 
feast  out  of  the  ordinary,  a  merry-making  to 
which  a  third  guest  might  be  bidden,  sud 
denly  Wildenai  left  the  cavern  again  to  return 
this  time  with  a  tiny  gray  fox  perched  fa 
miliarly  upon  her  shoulder. 

Tis  Onatoa,  senor  Englishman,"  she  an 
nounced,  gently  stroking  the  bushy  tail  of  the 
little  creature  as  it  lay  about  her  neck. 

But  from  his  vantage  point  above  his  rival, 
Onatoa  merely  sniffed  disdainfully  with  his 
sharp  black  nose.  He  looked  far  from  friendly. 

The  princess  laughed  softly. 

He  does  not  know  you  yet,"  she  defended 
her  pet.  "He  will  soon  learn  to  love  you,  too." 

"I  will  catch  fish  with  thee  next  time  thou 
goest,"  declared  young  Harold  later  as  they  ate 
together.  "There's  no  reason  I  can  see  why  I 
should  stay  mewed  up  forever  in  this  cave.  I 
fear  not  Indians!  No,  not  even  Torquam, 
thy  father,  himself." 


Forty-four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


For  an  instant  Wildenai  seemed  alarmed. 
Then  she  laughed. 

"You  are  afraid  of  nothing.  I  knew  it!" 
she  exclaimed  with  pride.  uNor  would  there 
be  much  danger.  We  will  go  to  the  other  side 
of  the  island  where  the  waves  run  high  and 
the  cliffs  are  tall  and  black.  There  will  I  show 
you  the  nests  of  the  great  eagles,  and  the  an 
telope  leaping  among  the  rocks.  And, — who 
can  tell?"  she  laughed  again  with  child-like 
pleasure,  "perhaps  we  shall  find  a  white  otter!" 

And,  true  to  her  word,  he  heard  at  dawn 
next  day  outside  the  cavern  the  whistle  of  a 
blackbird,  a  signal  early  contrived  between 
them.  She  deemed  it  best,  she  explained,  to 
start  thus  early  that  the  darkness  might  con 
ceal  them  until  they  had  passed  well  beyond 
the  outskirts  of  the  village.  But  this  danger 
overcome,  they  spent  the  whole  day  rambling 
fearlessly  among  the  hills, — a  long,  idle,  happy 
day.  Up  many  a  dim  trail  winding  back  into 
the  canyons  the  princess  led  him.  Through 
golden  thickets  of  wild  mustard  they  passed, 
coming,  when  he  least  -expected  it,  upon 
glimpses  of  the  summer  sea  framed  between 
the  branches  of  knarled  old  oak  trees. 


Forty-five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

"They  are  low  and  crooked,  and  they 
spread  themselves  over  the  ground  as  do  our 
English  oaks/'  the  young  nobleman  informed 
her. 

As  Wildenai  had  promised  they  discovered, 
poised  high  among  the  crags  of  the  wild  south 
ern  shore,  the  great  eagles  of  which  she  had 
told  him,  measuring  easily,  from  wing-tip  to 
wing-tip,  fully  a  dozen  feet.  The  white  otter, 
rarest  and  most  valuable  of  all  the  game  hunt 
ed  by  her  people,  eluded  them,  but  many  a 
small  gray  fox  slipped  away  among  the  bushes, 
leaving  the  Englishman  tingling  for  the  chase. 

At  twilight,  as  they  made  their  way  back 
to  the  cavern,  they  came  upon  a  tiny  lake  lying 
asleep  within  the  crater  of  a  dead  volcano. 
From  the  sides  little  clouds  of  ashes  rose,  float 
ing  softly  away  on  the  breezes  of  evening.  The 
princess  gathered  a  handful  and  murmuring 
some  musical  words  in  her  own  tongue  she 
threw  them  into  the  air. 

"And  would  it  be  amiss  for  me  to  ask  what 
'tis  you  do?"  questioned  her  companion,  ob 
serving  her  closely. 

"I  was  sending  a  prayer  to  Wakan-ate,  the 
Great  Spirit,"  she  replied  quietly. 

Forty -six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"A  prayer, — and  borne  to  heaven  on  the 
wings  of  ashes!"  He  seemed  amused.  "But 
what  hast  thou  to  pray  for,  oh  fair  princess?" 

Her  cheeks  glowing  with  quick  color,  she 
replied:  "It  were  not  fitting  that  any  maiden 
tell  for  what  she  prays!" 

The  words  were  spoken  with  such  gravity 
that  the  young  man  flushed  under  the  rebuke. 

When  she  left  him  at  the  doorway  of  the 
cavern  that  evening  she  said  as  she  made  a  gay 
little  gesture  of  farewell :  "Today  the  land,  but 
tomorrow  we  shall  find  still  more  beautiful 
things  that  lie  hidden  under  the  deep  waters. 
You  shall  see!" 

And  once  again  with  dawn  she  came.  This 
time  it  was  the  splash  of  a  paddle  that  brought 
him  to  the  opening  in  the  rock. 

"Aloho-ate,  lazy  one!"  she  called  gaily 
from  below.  "Make  haste!  The  world  is  al 
ways  loveliest  while  it  lies  waiting  for  the 
sun!" 

That  day,  perhaps,  from  among  them  all, 
lived  longest  within  the  memory  of  young  Har 
old, — the  porpoises  playing  fearlessly  around 
her  canoe  as  the  princess,  with  graceful,  effort 
less  strokes,  paddled  around  one  after  another 


Forty-seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


of  the  pointed  tongues  of  rock;  the  flying  fish, 
skimming  the  surface  of  the  ocean  until,  by 
virtue  of  their  speed  alone,  they  rose  like 
gleaming  bows  of  silver  from  the  foam.  Intent 
to  show  him  all  her  treasures,  Wildenai  guided 
him  to  a  quiet  stretch  of  water  lying  close  to 
shore  within  the  shadow  of  tall  cliffs  which 
rose  at  that  point  with  precipitous  abruptness 
from  the  sea  itself. 

"Here  are  my  gardens  that  grow  under  the 
water,"  she  explained,  as  they  glided  above 
the  spot.  "Look  well  at  them.  They  are  most 
beautiful." 

And  gazing  down  at  her  command  through 
the  clear  green  into  the  luminous  depths  be 
low,  he  caught  glimpses  of  these  gardens  of  the 
sea  where  goldfish  darted  like  tropical  birds 
among  the  branches  of  tall  tree-like  stalks  of 
swaying  seaweed,  and  strange  shapes  of  jade 
and  blue  floated  in  the  shadows. 

"Is  it  not  wonderful?"  she  asked. 

"It  is  indeed,  my  Wildenai,"  he  answered 
earnestly.  "Never  in  all  my  travels,  methinks, 
have  I  seen  aught  before  like  this  your  island 
here!  It  seems  to  me  indeed  a  charmed  land, 
a  kind  of  magic  isle!" 

Forty- eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


One  day  it  rained,  the  last  belated  rain  of 
winter.  But  even  the  storm  brought  pleasures 
of  its  own,  for,  seated  on  the  pile  of  skins  be 
side  him,  the  little  gray  fox  curled  contentedly 
at  her  feet,  Wildenai  worked  at  her  loom. 
Within  its  dull-colored  warp  a  blanket,  woven 
in  a  strange  design  of  mingled  red,  and  black, 
and  white,  grew  slowly  beneath  her  busy 
fingers. 

For  hours  the  maiden  drew  the  short  wool 
en  threads  in  and  out  while  the  young  man, 
stretched  lazily  upon  the  ground,  told  her 
many  a  tale  of  the  England  he  had  left.  Then, 
quite  without  warning,  she  ceased  her  work 
and  sat  pensively  watching  through  the  open 
ing  in  the  rocks  the  long  gray  swell  of  the  sea. 

"And  what  is  it  now,  my  princess?" 
laughed  young  Harold.  'The  pattern  is  not  yet 
finished,  nor  is  the  rain  abated." 

"Ah,  senor  Harold  lord,"  wistfully  replied 
the  girl,  "I  was  but  wishing  I  had  been  born 
one  of  those  same  fair  English  maids  with  the 
eyes  of  blue  and  golden  hair  you  tell  about. 
Then  would  you  love  me  even  as  you  do  them !" 
she  added  artlessly,  and  leaned  her  chin  upon 


Forty-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

her  hand,  considering.  A  secret  trembled  on 
her  lips. 

"And  how  if  I  were  Spanish  born?"  she 
questioned,  and  lifted  hesitating,  frightened 
eyes  to  his,  "dark  to  look  at,  that  I  know  well, 
but  even  so,  the  white  man's  kind  of  princess, 
who  also  has  a  throne?" 

And  all  unwitting  Lord  Harold  answered 
scornfully,  "Spanish!  Say  no  such  word  to 
me!  The  English  hate  the  Spanish!"  Fiercely 
he  caught  up  a  pebble  and  sent  it  whirling  out 
across  the  water.  "Even  now  their  robber  king 
plans  his  huge  armada  to  take  our  queen  and 
rule  our  land,  but  that,  by  the  holy  virgin  her 
self,  shall  never  be!  Sooner  will  every  drop  of 
blood  in  bonny  England  be  spilt.  Never  could 
I  make  thee  understand  how  much  I  hope  to 
be  at  home  before  he  comes!  Spanish  indeed! 
Nay,  never  let  me  hear  the  hateful  word 
again!" 

Then,  noting  her  puzzled,  downcast  face, 
with  the  impulsive  changeableness  which  had 
so  endeared  him  to  her,  he  caught  one  little 
brown  hand  and  raised  it  to  his  lips. 

"But  I  do  love  thee  even  as  thou  art,  my 
Wildenai,"  he  told  her  with  the  careless  assur- 


Fifty 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


ance  of  one  much  older  speaking  to  a  child. 
"Is  not  a  wild  rose  sweet  as  any  garden  bloom  ? 
Nay,  methinks  'tis  often  sweeter!" 

Again  he  laughed  and  the  little  princess 
laughed  with  him  now,  for  into  her  heart  at  his 
words  had  come  a  happiness  so  unlocked  for 
and  so  wildly  sweet  as  wholly  to  bewilder  her. 
Quickly  she  rose,  struck  by  a  sudden  thought, 
and  running  to  the  farthermost  corner  of  the 
cavern  she  brushed  aside  a  pile  of  leaves  and 
lifted  some  stones,  disclosing  at  length  a  box 
fashioned  from  the  choicest  cedar.  Out  of  it, 
while  the  Englishman  watched  with  wondering 
eyes,  she  drew  a  garment  made  of  creamy  doe 
skin,  deeply  fringed  and  trimmed  besides  with 
strings  of  wampum, — the  polished  fragments 
of  abalone  shells  and  many-colored  beads.  Si 
lently  she  brought  it  to  him  and  when  he 
touched  it  admiringly,  for  the  dress  was  beauti 
ful.  "It  is  my  marriage  robe,"  she  told  him 
gravely. 

That  night,  while  the  rain  tapped  softly  at 
her  tepee,  the  princess  dreamed  of  a  wondrous 
land  beyond  the  sea  where  proudly  she  walked 
by  her  white  chiefs  side  and  fair  women  with 


Fifty-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

braided,  golden  hair  spoke  kind  words  of  wel 
come,  smiling  at  her  out  of  sweet  blue  eyes. 


Then,  without  warning,  came  the  end  of 
all  her  dreams.  Hurrying  along  the  beach  at 
sunset  only  a  few  days  later,  Wildenai  caught 
the  first  glimpse  of  the  returning  vessel  as  it 
stole  around  a  distant  point.  For  the  space  of 
a  second  her  heart  stood  still,  then  throbbed 
wildly,  but  whether  with  joy  or  pain  she  could 
not  herself  have  told.  One  question  only  de 
manded  all  her  thought.  Should  she  let  Lord 
Harold  know?  Perhaps  the  great  white  cap 
tain  would  not  remember  their  bay.  Perhaps, 
— her  breath  came  fast, — perhaps  the  ship,  un 
seen  by  anyone,  would  pass  and  Lord  Harold 
remain  behind  content.  With  hands  tight- 
clenched  she  watched  the  distant  sail,  fear 
growing  in  her  eyes.  Yet  she  knew  that  she 
would  tell  him.  Nothing  else  was  honorable. 
This,  surely,  he  must  decide  for  himself. 

But  tidings  of  such  moment  outran  even 
her  swift  feet.  She  found  him  buckling  on  his 
sword-belt,  in  his  eyes  the  glad  light  of  some 

Fifty-two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

trapped  bird  which  sees  the  door  of  its  cage 
suddenly  open. 

"The  ship — "  she  began  with  sinking 
heart. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know!  I  saw  it!"  he  an 
swered,  a  fever  of  impatience  in  his  voice. 
"  Tis  Drake.  I  knew  he  dared  not  leave  me! 
Twill  soon  be  too  close  in.  Needs  not  he  risk 
his  safety.  I  must  go  before  he  gains  the 
shore." 

The  princess  hesitated.  What  meant  that 
strange  heaviness  at  her  heart?  Was  he  not 
still  her  brave,  true  warrior, — her  great  white 
chief?  Had  he  not  told  her  that  he  loved  her? 
Crossing  to  where  he  stood  she  bowed  herself 
before  him  until  her  silver  fillet  touched  his 
feet. 

"I,  too!"  she  whispered,  "I  shall  go  to 
England  with  thee!" 

And  at  her  words,  within  the  little  cavern 
there  came  a  silence  to  be  felt.  In  undisguised 
dismay  the  Englishman  gazed  at  her  where  she 
knelt.  Then: 

"By  the  holyrood!"  he  muttered  aghast, 
"She  must  have  thought, — God  only  knows 
what  she  must  have  thought!" 

Fifty-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

He  glanced  hurriedly  toward  the  doorway 
and  back  again,  ashamed.  Then  even  such 
impatience  as  was  his  gave  way,  for  the  mo 
ment  at  least,  to  something  more  chivalric.  He 
stooped  and  patted  awkwardly  the  smooth 
black  head. 

"Come,  Wildenai,  little  wild  rose,  look  up 
and  speak  to  me.  I  must  be  going!" 

But  still  the  maid  lay  prostrate,  clasping 
close  his  rough  buskins  in  her  little  brown 
hands.  Never  in  all  his  life  had  Lord  Harold 
been  so  sorely  uncomfortable.  How  was  it 
possible  she  had  ever  imagined  that  he  could 
take  her  with  him, — that  he  had  meant  so 
much?  Resentment  grew  within  him  at  the 
thought,  yet  strangely  mingled  always  with 
something  far  more  tender.  Hastily  he  con 
sidered,  his  heart  torn  between  the  desire  not 
to  wound  her  and  dread  of  what  he  knew  she 
wanted.  To  be  sure  the  maid  was  beautiful, 
with  the  softened  beauty  of  a  moonlit  night 
in  summer,  her  eyes  beneath  her  dusky  hair 
like  stars  between  the  branches  of  dark  trees, 
her  voice  that  of  the  forest  stream  when  it 
sings  itself  to  sleep.  Yet  past  all  doubt  he 
knew  that  not  one  among  the  gorgeous  throng 


Fifty- four 


A      ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 


that  crowded  about  Elizabeth  would  ever  see 
that  beauty,  no  English  ear  take  heed  to  hear 
the  music  of  her  voice.  Nay,  he  could  even,  as 
he  thought  of  it,  picture  the  amazement  of  the 
great  queen,  could  hear  her  scornful  laughter, 
should  he  present,  to  help  adorn  her  court,  a 
savage  Indian  girl!  No,  a  thousand  times  no! 
Such  disgrace  he  could  not  suffer.  Nor  was 
the  maid  herself,  so  he  defended  himself,  fitted 
for  such  a  life.  Soon  would  she  be  as  unhappy 
in  England  as  he  would  be  to  have  her  there. 
Besides,  she  was  but  a  child.  Else  had  she 
never  so  far  forgot  all  womanly  dignity  as  to 
force  herself  upon  him,  and  being  but  a  child 
she  would  soon  forget.  Gently  he  made  to 
raise  her  to  her  feet. 

"Wildenai,  little  wild  rose,"  he  began 
again,  "what  thou  hast  asked  of  me  thou  dost 
well  know  thyself  is  an  unheard  of  thing. 
Much  as  I  owe  to  thee,  and  well  know  I  that 
'tis  so  much  I  never  can  repay  it;  still  for  thine 
own  sweet  sake  'tis  not  in  this  way  thy  reward 
must  come.  The  long  journey  and  the  strange 
new  life  would  kill  thee,  Wildenai."  Having 
once  begun  he  stumbled  on,  but  half  aware 
of  how  each  word  he  uttered  hurt  her,  eager 


Fifty-ftve 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

only  to  have  done  with  the  whole  sorry  scene. 
"Thou  art  but  a  little  wild  flower.  Thou 
couldst  not  live  away  from  this,  thy  sunny 
island.  Can'st  thou  not  understand,  my 
Wildenai?" 

He  paused,  waiting  for  a  reply;  but  the 
maiden  answered  nothing.  Silent  she  lay  as 
though  in  very  truth  she  were  a  wild  flower 
tossed  to  earth  and  trampled  upon  by  some  un 
caring  foot. 

At  last  the  man  could  bear  it  no  longer. 
Forcibly  he  loosed  her  hands  and  stepped 
back.  For  a  moment  longer  he  lingered,  look 
ing  down  upon  her  in  mingled  impatience  and 
regret;  then,  turning  abruptly,  he  passed  hast 
ily  out  of  the  cavern  and  down  the  trail  to  the 
beach. 

Still  the  girl  lay  motionless.  It  was  as  if 
every  sense  were  stunned,  all  power  of  thought 
suspended  except  to  grasp  the  one  fact  that 
made  her  whole  world  empty, — he  was  gone! 
As  in  a  dream  she  heard  the  grating  of  the  peb 
bles  when  he  pushed  his  boat  into  the  water, 
heard  the  clank  of  the  oars  as  they  dropped 
into  the  oar-locks.  Even  yet  she  did  not  move. 
Then,  after  many  minutes,  she  crept  to  the 


Fifty-six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

opening  and  searched  the  sea  with  eyes  almost 
too  dim  with  tears  to  find  that  for  which  she 
sought.  But  yes,  there  it  was, — a  black  speck 
against  the  golden  sunset.  She  watched  until 
she  had  seen  the  distant  vessel  put  about,  mak 
ing  for  the  open  sea.  Ah,  now  she  knew  that 
he  was  safe  aboard, — no  need  had  they  to  come 
farther  into  shore.  Yet  still  she  waited,  strain 
ing  her  eyes  to  see  the  ship  sink  slowly  beneath 
the  horizon.  One  last  glint  of  sunlight  against 
a  white  sail,  and  it  was  gone. 

Then  at  once  she  rose,  and  moving  quietly 
about  the  little  cavern,  she  put  all  in  perfect  or 
der  with  touch  as  tender  as  that  of  a  mother 
preparing  for  its  last  sleep  some  little  child. 
Here  was  the  basket  he  had  helped  to  weave, 
here  the  mat  on  which  he  had  lain.  Her  fingers 
lingered  caressingly  on  each  thing  that  he  had 
touched.  There  in  the  corner  still  stood  the 
olla  in  which  she  had  brought  him  water.  How 
amused  he  had  been  that  she  could  carry  it  on 
her  head  all  the  way  up  the  hill  from  the  spring 
without  so  much  as  spilling  one  drop!  But 
that  was  all  past  now. 

When  at  last  everything  was  finished  she 
gave  the  little  rock-walled  room  one  long,  lin- 


Fifty- seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


gering  look,  the  look  of  one  who  would  carry 
in  his  heart  the  image  of  what  he  beholds  all 
the  rest  of  his  life.  Then  she,  too,  made  her 
way  through  the  doorway  into  the  deepening 
dusk. 


On  the  beach  below,  squatted  within  the 
opened  flap  of  his  tepee,  Torquam,  mighty 
chief  of  the  Mariposa,  smoked  his  evening 
pipe.  A  wonderful  pipe  it  was,  long  and  deli 
cately  fashioned,  inlaid  with  iridescent  frag 
ments  of  shell.  Yet  instantly  he  laid  it  aside  as 
the  slender  form  of  his  daughter  darkened  the 
doorway. 

"Ah,  Wildenai,  little  wild  rose,  welcome  art 
thou  as  sunshine  after  rain!"  His  eyes  lighted 
with  the  tenderness  never  seen  there  by  any 
other  than  this  motherless  girl.  He  stretched 
his  hand  to  her  and  the  princess  came  silently 
and  knelt  before  him. 

"My  father,"  she  said  firmly,  though  in  so 
low  a  tone  that  Torquam  bent  to  hear.  "Oh, 
father,  thou  art  always  wise!  Thou  only 
knowest  best.  I  come  to  thee  to  tell  that  I  will 


Fifty -eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


wed  Cabrillo.  I  will  wed  with  him  whenever 
thou  dost  choose!" 

Taking  her  face  between  his  hands,  Tor- 
quam  gazed  long  and  searchingly  into  the  sor 
rowful  eyes  of  his  daughter. 

"And  thou  art  wise  to  do  so,  my  beloved 
one/'  he  said  at  last.  "He  will  make  to  thee 
a  good  husband."  In  his  voice  was  the  keen 
understanding  of  a  father.  "He  will  be  kind 
to  thee  and  heal  thy  wounded  heart,  my 
daughter.  Don  Cabrillo  is  a  good  man,"  he 
repeated  solemnly. 


Fifty-nine 


Miss  Hastings  Brings  It 
to  an  End 


PART  II 
Miss  HASTINGS  BRINGS  IT  TO  AN  END 

Centuries  passed,  and  again,  with  the 
same  sweet  suddenness  as  in  the  days  gone  by, 
spring  came  to  Catalina.  Guests  of  the  St. 
Catherine,  lounging  on  its  wide  verandahs, 
gazed  across  a  sunlit  sea  to  where  the  faint 
cloud  that  was  San  Jacinto  hovered,  the  merest 
ghost  of  a  mountain,  above  the  misty  main 
land.  Along  the  broad  board-walk  leading 
down  to  Avalon  benches,  shaded  by  bright- 
striped  awnings,  flaunted  an  invitation  to 
every  passing  tourist.  Strings  of  Japanese  lan 
terns  bobbed  merrily  above  the  narrow  village 
streets.  Everywhere  were  laughter  and  move 
ment  and  color  from  the  bathing  beaches,  dot 
ted  with  gay  umbrellas — even  to  the  last  yacht 
anchored  round  the  point. 

To  the  man  making  slow  progress  down  the 
crowded  wharf  from  the  afternoon  boat  this 
holiday  world  into  which  he  thus  suddenly 
stepped,  presented  an  appearance  so  different 


Sixty-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


from  that  he  had  pictured  as  almost  to  bewilder 
him.  At  sight  of  the  jaunty  little  motorbus 
waiting  to  haul  him  up  the  winding  grade  to 
the  hotel,  he  actually  hesitated.  Yet  seldom 
before,  to  his  knowledge,  had  he  found  it  dif 
ficult  to  adapt  himself  to  an  unexpected  situa 
tion. 

"Hotel  St.  Catherine!  Bus  to  the  hotel, 
sir?" 

Other  guests,  more  certain  of  their  inten 
tions,  pushed  impatiently  against  him,  and 
presently  he  found  himself,  wedged  well  to 
ward  the  middle  of  the  long  seat,  chugging 
comfortably  up  the  hill.  Still  half-daunted,  he 
gazed  about  him.  It  was  all  of  it  charming  to 
be  sure,  fascinating  even ;  yet,  could  this  festive 
summering  place  be  the  Avalon  of  his  dreams? 
Was  this  the  quaint  village  of  Spanish  times, 
reaching  back  still  further  through  dimly  re 
membered  Indian  lore  to  a  world  lost  now  ex 
cept  to  legend?  Yet  it  was  for  the  sake  of  a 
mere  legend,  a  fanciful  tale  handed  down  in 
his  family  through  many  a  generation,  that  he 
had  made  the  long  journey  from  New  York  to 
California,  nor — and  here  he  set  his  lips  with 


Sixty-two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


dogged  determination,  did  he  intend  to  return 
until  he  had  found  that  for  which  he  searched. 

It  was  now  something  over  two  years  since 
Harrison  Blair,  then  fresh  from  Yale,  had  as 
tonished  both  those  who  wished  him  well  and 
those  who,  for  various  envious  reasons,  did 
not,  with  the  wholly  unreasonable  success  of 
his  first  book.  For,  to  those  who  did  not  un 
derstand,  his  sudden  fame  had  seemed  all  the 
more  surprising  in  that  it  rested  upon  nothing 
more  substantial  than  a  slender  volume  of  In 
dian  verse.  So  unusual,  however,  had  been  his 
treatment  of  this  well-worn  subject  as  to  call 
forth  more  than  a  little  comment  from  even  the 
most  conservative  of  critics.  The  Brush  and 
Pen  had  hastened  to  confer  upon  him  an  hon 
orary  membership.  Cadmon,  magic  weaver 
of  Indian  music,  had  written  a  warm  letter  of 
appreciation.  And,  most  precious  tribute  of 
all,  the  Atlantic  Monthly  had  become  interested 
in  his  career. 

To  be  sure,  it  was  nothing  more  than  might 
have  been  expected  of  a  man  whose  under 
graduate  work  in  English  had  aroused  the  re 
luctant  wonder  of  more  than  one  instructor. 
Nevertheless,  the  fact  that  he  pulled  stroke  on 

Sixty-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


the  'varsity  crew  had  somewhat  blinded  other 
contemporaries  to  his  more  scholarly  attain 
ments.  Nor  had  anyone  thought  it  probable, 
because  of  his  father's  wealth,  that  Blair,  in 
any  event,  would  feel  called  upon  to  do  much 
more  than  make  a  frolic  of  life.  No  one,  in 
deed,  had  been  more  taken  aback  than  had  his 
father  to  find  him,  a  year  after  graduation, 
drudging  over  the  assistant  editor's  desk  of  a 
struggling  magazine  the  payroll  of  which,  to 
put  it  mildly,  offered  no  financial  inducements. 

"It's  good  practice  for  me,  though, — 
quickest  way  to  learn,"  was  all  he  vouchsafed 
when  the  older  man  remonstrated. 

Yet,  had  that  same  father,  shrewd  capital 
ist  that  he  was,  but  taken  the  trouble  to  reason 
back  from  premises  evident  enough,  he  might 
have  been  the  first  to  realize  that  this  tall  son 
of  his,  with  the  keen  gray  eyes  and  a  face  the 
strength  of  which  was  but  increased  by  the 
high  cheek  bones  and  squarely  molded  chin, 
was  scarcely  the  type  of  man  to  sit  idly  by  en 
joying  the  fruits  of  another's  labor. 

And  now,  after  two  years  more  of  grinding 
apprenticeship,  he  had  in  mind  something 
much  bigger  than  the  slender  volume  of  verse, 


Sixty-four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


— an  adventure  into  authorship  more  suited 
to  his  metal, — a  story  for  which  an  intense 
personal  sympathy  would  furnish  fitting  at 
mosphere,  with  the  final  spur  to  his  ambition  a 
letter  from  the  Atlantic  even  at  the  moment 
stowed  safely  away  in  his  pocket. 

Some  two  hours  later,  after  an  unexpect 
edly  excellent  dinner  in  the  luxurious  dining 
room,  he  sauntered  over  to  the  hotel  desk. 
There  was  no  more  than  the  faintest  probabil 
ity  that  a  clerk  of  the  St.  Catherine  would  be 
able  to  tell  him  how  to  reach  a  secret  cavern 
bower  above  the  Bay  of  Moons;  still,  he  had 
to  enter  an  opening  wedge  somewhere.  The 
one  man  on  duty  was  for  the  moment  occupied 
with  another  guest,  and  Blair,  lighting  his 
after-dinner  cigar,  prepared  with  leisurely  pa 
tience  to  await  his  turn. 

The  guest  happened  to  be  a  young  woman, 
rather  pretty,  he  casually  decided,  although  her 
greatest  claim  to  beauty  lay  more,  perhaps,  in 
the  swift  changes  in  expression  of  which  her 
face  was  capable,  than  in  any  actual  regularity 
of  line.  For  lack  of  anything  better  to  do, 
Blair  watched  idly  her  encounter  with  the 


Sixty-five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


clerk.  There  appeared  to  be  some  kind  of  mis 
understanding. 

"Awfully  sorry  it's  happened  that  way, 
Miss  Hastings/'  the  man  behind  the  desk  was 
saying.  He  lifted  with  genuine  reluctance  the 
key  she  had  just  laid  down.  "We'd  be  mighty 
sorry  to  interfere  with  your  work,  but  those 
small  rooms  always  do  go  first.  You  know 
that  yourself." 

"I  hadn't  heard  about  it,  though.  I  didn't 
know  they  were  all  gone."  Her  voice  quivered 
with  disappointment. 

Blair,  whose  vocation  taught  him  a  cer 
tain  technical  sympathy,  shot  a  swift  glance 
at  her.  She  couldn't  be  more  than  twenty-two 
or  thereabouts,  he  decided  less  casually,  and 
went  on  to  observe  her  still  further.  She  wore 
a  shabby,  broad-brimmed  hat  much  faded  as  if 
from  constant  exposure  to  the  sun,  but  the 
shadows  in  the  coil  of  hair  beneath  were  warm 
ly  golden. 

"Couldn't  you  find  a  room  down  in  the 
village  somewhere, — at  Mrs.  Merrill's  per 
haps?"  suggested  the  clerk. 

"But  Mrs.  Merrill  isn't  here  this  spring." 
In  spite  of  its  quiver  the  voice  was  very  sweet. 

Sixty- six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"No,"  she  started  to  turn  away,  "I'll  have  to 
put  it  off  again,  I  suppose.  I've  looked  every 
where." 

She  took  a  step  or  two,  hesitated,  then  re 
turned  to  the  desk. 

"You're  positive  there  isn't  a  single  one  of 
the  small  rooms  left?"  she  pleaded.  "I 
wouldn't  care  how  far  back  it  was, — anything 
would  do.  You  can't  think  how  I  hate  to  give 
up.  I  had  so  hoped  to  finish  it  this  time!" 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"No,  we're  absolutely  full  just  now. 
Later  on  there  might  be  something, — after  the 
season  is  over." 

"But  that  will  be  after  school  begins,"  an 
swered  the  girl  bitterly.  "I  can't  work  at  all 
then!"  and  catching  up  a  bag  fully  as  shabby 
as  the  hat,  she  hurried  away. 

"Who  is  she?"  asked  Blair  abruptly,  over 
looking  for  the  moment  his  original  purpose  in 
seeking  the  man. 

"School-teacher  from  Pasadena,"  replied 
the  clerk  briefly.  "Teaches  art  in  some  private 
school  over  there,  I  believe."  He  eyed  Blair 
amusedly.  "Think  you've  met  her  before 
somewhere?" 


Sixty-seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


Blair  allowed  his  annoyance  to  show. 
"No,  never  laid  eyes  on  her  till  just  now.  But 
I  couldn't  help  feeling  a  bit  sorry  for  her/'  he 
persisted.  "She  seemed  so  sort  of  cut  up. 
What's  the  trouble?" 

"I'm  sorry  for  her  myself,"  declared  the 
man  on  the  other  side  as  he  hung  the  returned 
key  on  its  board.  "This  is  the  third  time  that 
poor  little  woman's  had  to  leave  before  she 
could  finish  what  she  came  for  on  account  of 
the  expense.  But  what  can  we  do?"  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders.  "The  St.  Catherine 
isn't  exactly  a  Y.  W.  C.  A." 

"What  is  it  she's  trying  to  do?" 

Amusement  deepened  in  the  man's  eyes. 

"She's  supposed  to  be  painting  Indians." 

"Indians !"  To  the  amazement  of  the  other 
man  Blair  suddenly  leaned  forward,  his  eyes 
agleam  with  interest. 

"But  I  didn't  know  there  were  any  around 
here." 

"There  aren't." 

"Then  how—?" 

"Makes  'em  up  out  of  her  head,  I  guess.  I 
never  heard  that  she  had  even  a  model." 


Sixty- eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"But — but  what  I  want  to  know  is  why 
she  comes  here  at  all?"  The  situation  seemed 
to  Blair  to  offer  possibilities,  yet  he  was  thor 
oughly  puzzled.  "I  met  a  fellow  on  the  train 
who  does  that  sort  of  thing,  but  he  always  goes 
to  the  desert  to  paint, — at  least  he  said  he  did." 

"Yes,  they  do  mostly.  Probably  he  meant 
Taos, — whole  nest  of  artists  at  Taos." 

"Well,  but  why  in  thunder  then—?" 

The  clerk  smiled  skeptically. 

"Why,  you  see,  it's  something  like  this. 
Miss  Hastings'  bent  on  being  an  illustrator, — 
pays  better  than  teaching,  I  suppose,  or — 
well,  at  any  rate,  that's  what  she's  aiming  for, 
— and  she  has  an  idea  that  if  she  can  only  get 
a  series  of  pictures, — several  of  them  on  the 
same  subject,  you  understand, — accepted  by 
one  of  those  Eastern  magazines,  she  can  soon 
work  in  with  some  big  publisher  and  get  an 
order.  She  told  us  all  about  it  one  night  last 
winter  when  she  was  over." 

"But  in  heaven's  name,  why  Indians?" 
persisted  Blair. 

"Because  she  thinks  she's  found  some 
good  material  here.  She  told  me  about  that, 
too.  Seems  there's  an  old  legend  connected 

Sixty-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 

with  Catalina,  about  an  Indian  princess  and  a 
cavern.  The  princess  died  of  a  broken  heart 
or  something  of  the  sort,  I  believe  she  said.  I 
never  heard  the  particulars  myself.  Nobody 
else,  either,  seems  to  know  anything  about  it. 
But  Miss  Hastings  says  there's  quite  a  story, 
and  she's  got  it  all  down  pat  from  A  to  Z.  She's 
using  it  for  her  series." 

A  porter  brought  up  some  newcomers  and 
Blair  stepped  aside.  But  the  moment  his 
man  was  at  leisure  again  he  cornered  him  at 
once.  An  idea  had  come  to  him,  an  idea  al 
most  dazzling  in  its  possibilities. 

"You  say  she  hasn't  finished  her  series 
yet?" 

"Beg  pardon?  Oh,  the  teacher?"  The 
man  shook  his  head.  "Evidently  not  from 
what  she  said  just  now.  She  never  stays  long 
enough  really  to  put  it  over.  Every  few 
months  she  bobs  up  over  a  week-end,  but  that 
doesn't  give  her  time  even  to  visit  some  of  the 
places  she's  after.  She  never  seems  to  get 
much  more  than  started  before  she  has  to  go 
home  again." 

For  a  moment  Blair  smoked  in  silence. 
Then: 


Seventy 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"Look  here/'  he  cut  in  abruptly,  "You 
split  my  suite  and  give  her  one  of  my  rooms." 

The  man's  eyebrows  rose  in  surprise. 

"Her?  What  do  you  mean?" 

Blair  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"Why,  this  Miss — the  teacher,  you  know. 
Didn't  you  just  say  you  hadn't  any  room  for 
her?  Well,  I've  got  three,  you  know." 

"Yes,  but  that's  altogether  a  different  prop 
osition.  You  made  your  reservation  weeks 
ago." 

"But  you  could  still  give  her  one  of  them, 
couldn't  you?" 

Clerks  in  large  hotels  listen  with  patience 
to  a  vast  number  of  strange  proposals,  but  at 
this  from  Blair,  the  man  opposite  eyed  him  in 
unflattering  amazement. 

"But  you  said,  when  you  wired,  you 
wanted  the  extra  room  to  work  in,"  he  ob 
jected,  "and  you'll  remember,  Mr.  Blair,  that 
you  were  pretty  emphatic  about  it,  too,  at  the 
time.  We  went  to  all  kinds  of  trouble  to  fix 
that  up  for  you." 

"I  can  get  along  all  right  without  it, 
though,"  coolly  observed  his  changeable  guest, 
"and  I'd  rather  she'd  have  it.  It's  possible  to 


Seventy-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


split  suites  here,  isn't  it?"  he  persisted.  'They 
do  at  most  hotels." 

"It's  possible,  of  course."  Across  the  desk 
the  eyes  of  the  two  men  met  squarely.  'That 
part  of  it's  easy  enough.  But  why?  and  who's 
going  to  pay  for  it?" 

"I'm  going  to  pay  for  it!  What  did  you 
suppose?"  exploded  Blair.  "It's  worth  that 
and  a  lot  more  to  me  just  now  to  keep  her  from 
getting  away.  Oh,  I'm  in  earnest  all  right.  I 
mean  it!  Look  here!  Can't  you  see  how  that 
woman  can  be  a  perfect  gold  mine  to  me?  You 
know  enough  about  my  work  to  understand 
that  I'm  really  out  here  after  Indians  myself, 
and  she — well,  I'll  wager  a  cool  thousand 
there  isn't  .a  spot  on  this  whole  island  that  ever 
dreamed  of  seeing  an  Indian  that  she  doesn't 
know  all  about!" 

The  clerk  nodded.    "But—" 

"But  nothing!"  Impatiently  Blair  brushed 
aside  all  objections.  "Why,  I  hadn't  the  re 
motest  idea  how  I  was  going  to  get  started.  It's 
a  rattling  piece  of  good  luck,  and  we'll  fix  it  up 
right  now!" 

"Yes,  but — "  Still  the  other  man  hesi 
tated.  "It  sounds  all  right  enough, — from  your 


Seventy-two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


end  of  it  especially,  but  you'd  better  see  her 
first.  She's  a  proud  little  piece, — doesn't  like 
obligations  of  any  kind, — and  a  stranger, — a 
man — I'm  sorry  to  discourage  you,  but  I  don't 
believe  she'll  have  a  thing  to  do  with  it." 

In  Blair's  eyes  impatience  threatened  to  be 
come  something  more  emphatic. 

"It's  a  business  proposition  pure  and  sim 
ple,"  he  argued.  "She  gives  me  all  the  infor 
mation  she's  been  able  to  get  together,  and  I 
pay  her  expenses  while  she  does  it.  That  gives 
her  a  chance  to  finish  her  own  work,  don't  you 
see?  A  mighty  good  proposition  for  her,  too, 
I  should  say,  and  if  she  doesn't  see  it  that  way 
herself, — why, — well,  she  isn't  as  intelligent 
as  she  looks,  that's  all!" 

"Providing  you  can  persuade  her  it  is  just 
business.  I'd  advise  you  to  talk  with  her  first, 
just  the  same.  And  you'll  have  to  be  quick 
about  it,  too.  She's  planning  to  wait  in  the 
village  tonight  for  the  morning  boat,  and  she'll 
be  starting  down  about  now." 


Outside  was  one  of  those  radiant  nights  in 
tended  for  dreams  and  the  makers  of  dreams, 

Seventy-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


Over  an  ocean  white  with  light  long  breakers 
rolled  crests  gleaming  with  silver  that  fell  in 
soft  thunder  on  the  beach.  Miss  Hastings, 
hurrying  along  the  board-walk  to  the  village, 
glanced  at  them  and  looked  quickly  away. 

"Oh,  I  say!"  came  a  voice  out  of  the  dark 
ness  behind  her,  "if  you  don't  mind,  hold  on 
there  a  minute,  will  you?  Wait  for  me,  please!" 
The  voice  was  that  of  a  man,  pleasant,  but  ex 
ceedingly  determined.  Without  so  much  as 
turning  her  head  Miss  Hastings  quickened  her 
steps. 

But  it  was  of  no  use.  Whoever  her  pur 
suer  might  be,  he  was  even  then  at  her  side. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  breathlessly  he  be 
gan  again,  "but  I've  been  chasing  you  all  the 
way  down  from  the  hotel.  I  want  you  to  come 
right  back  there  with  me.  I  have  a  proposal 
to  make  to  you." 

Even  in  the  darkness  he  could  see  how 
the  girl's  eyes  blazed. 

"I  never  listen — "  she  began  hotly,  "to  pro 
posals  from  people  I  don't  know,"  she  had 
meant  to  add,  but  he  gave  her  no  time. 

"It  will  mean  the  biggest  chance  for  your 
pictures  you've  ever  had,"  he  broke  in.  "Now, 
listen!" 

Seventy-four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


And,  to  her  complete  surprise,  Miss  Hast 
ings  suddenly  found  herself  doing  that  very 
thing. 

"There  are  a  lot  of  things  I've  got  to  find 
out  right  away,"  continued  the  astonishing 
stranger,  "and  the  clerk  up  there  tells  me 
you're  painting  a  series  of  Indian  portraits." 

The  little  art  teacher  gazed  at  him  fascin 
ated.  What  manner  of  man  could  this  be,  she 
wondered. 

'I  don't  see  the  connection — "  Coldness 
struggled  with  curiosity  in  her  voice. 

"Listen!"  With  uplifted,  peremptory  hand 
again  he  stopped  her.  Nor  is  it  safe  to  say 
that  any  book  agent,  watching  the  door  slowly 
closing  upon  him,  ever  talked  faster,  or  more 
rigidly  to  the  point,  than  did  Blair  within  the 
next  few  minutes. 

"Perhaps  you  won't  understand  it  all  right 
off.  I  wouldn't  expect  that.  But  it's  this  way. 
I'm  representing  Harper's,  and  Houghton  and 
Mifflin,  and  Dodd  and  Mead,  and — several 
other  firms"  (to  satisfy  his  conscience  Blair 
contended  with  himself  that  he  might  as  well 
as  not  have  been  their  representative — a  mere 
oversight  on  their  part  ought  not  to  be  allowed 

Seventy-five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

to  stand  in  his  way) ,  "and  I'm  out  here  to  find 
the  best  illustrator  I  can  lay  hands  on  to  do  the 
pictures  for  some  Indian  stuff  I'm  getting  into 
shape  for  one  of  'em.  I  want  to  see  your  work. 
And,  if  I  like  it,  I'll  pay  you  well.  And  any 
way,  I'll  pay  every  bit  of  the  expense  while  you 
finish  your  series  here  if  you'll  tell  me  what 
you  know  about  Wildenai!" 

But,  at  the  name,  the  girl  beside  him  had 
given  a  low  cry  of  utter  amazement.  She 
stopped  short. 

"Do  you  know  it  too,  then?"  she  gasped. 
"How  did  you  hear  about  it?" 

"Oh,  I've  known  it  for  years,"  replied 
Blair  carelessly.  "Some  of  it  I've  known  all 
my  life.  But  look  here  now.  Is  it  a  bargain? 
— about  your  helping  me,  I  mean?" 

Before  he  left  her,  an  hour  or  so  later, 
every  detail  had  been  arranged.  Miss  Hast 
ings  had  meekly  agreed  to  return  to  the  hotel 
in  the  morning.  Blair  would  pay  her  expenses 
and  something  he  called  a  retaining  fee  be 
sides.  That  would  make  an  extra  fifty  dollars, 
— she  smiled  to  herself  in  the  dark, — a  new 
winter  suit  at  least,  and  perhaps  one  or  two 
matinees  if  she  managed !  All  this  for  the  in- 


Seventy-six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


formation  she  could  give  him  about  the  island 
and  its  history.  The  various  points  in  their 
contract  spun  dizzily  in  her  dazed  brain.  No 
spot  known  to  legend  to  which  it  was  possible 
to  conduct  him  should  remain  unvisited.  Four 
hours  out  of  every  day  were  pledged  without 
fail  to  his  interests.  The  rest  of  the  time  she 
might  have  for  her  own  work.  It  had  all  come 
about  so  unexpectedly,  and  was  altogether  so 
extraordinary  that,  after  he  had  gone,  his  new 
employe,  stretched  uncomfortably  upon  a  nar 
row  cot  in  the  tent  of  a  fellow  teacher,  spent  the 
remainder  of  the  night  in  imaginary  interviews 
with  Eastern  publishers  regarding  impossible 
royalties.  She  was  far  too  excited  to  sleep. 

And,  for  a  week,  the  arrangement  worked 
very  well, — almost  too  well.  Every  day 
brought  with  it  some  new  adventure,  and  every 
adventure  became  a  pleasure. 

Mounted  at  Blair's  expense  on  more  or  less 
energetic  ponies,  for  from  the  first  he  had  in 
sisted  that  horses  were  a  necessary  part  of 
their  business  equipment,  they  cantered  gaily 
along  the  shady  canyon  trails,  or  over  the  sun 
lit  slopes  sheeted  in  pale  lavender  wherever 
the  wild  lilacs  were  in  bloom.  Often,  emerging 

Seventy-seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


from  some  thicket  of  dwarf  oak  they  caught 
glimpses  of  a  sapphire  sea  held  between  red, 
twisted  branches  of  manzanita  as  in  a  frame. 
About  them  rang  the  music  of  the  meadow 
larks.  Merry  shouts  of  bathers  floated  up  from 
the  beaches  far  below,  mingled  with  the  dis 
tant  click  of  golf  balls  on  the  greens. 

For  the  whole  of  a  golden  day  they  char 
tered  a  sailboat  from  one,  Sailor  Ben,  and 
rounding  the  yellow  headlands  under  his  lazy 
guidance,  they  went  to  drink  tea  aboard  the 
ancient  Chinese  barge  stranded,  no  one  knew 
how  many  hundreds  of  years  before,  among 
the  rocks  off  the  southern  shore. 

"Fascinating  old  place,"  observed  Blair 
gazing,  his  eyes  aglow  with  interest,  around 
the  mediaeval  cabin. 

"Indeed  it  is,"  eagerly  echoed  his  assistant, 
"It's  absolutely  unique!" 

Her  gaze,  as  bright  with  interest  as  his 
own,  rested  upon  Blair  himself.  She  was  con 
sidering,  absent-mindedly,  how  becoming 
white  trousers  can  be  to  most  men,  especially 
when  they  are  reasonably  dark  themselves. 
But, — her  glance  travelled  upward, — how  un 
usually  dark  he  was,  and  his  hair, — yes,  with- 


Seventy- eight 


ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


out  question,  the  straightest  and  blackest  she 
had  ever  seen.  Yet  it  seemed  in  some  inde 
finable  way  to  become  him, — to  belong,  as  it 
were,  to  his  type.  Leaning  her  elbows  medi 
tatively  upon  the  table,  her  chin  in  her  hands, 
she  silently  appraised  him.  He  really  was  a 
handsome  man,  she  decided,  and  clever,  too, 
of  the  sort  who  does  things  in  the  world!  A 
dreamy  light  grew  within  her  eyes. 

It  was  only  two  or  three  evenings  later 
when,  on  their  way  back  from  the  site  of  an 
historic  Indian  village  on  the  other  side  of  the 
island,  they  walked  their  horses  slowly  around 
the  Wishbone  Loop,  the  ostensible  reason  be 
ing  that,  as  Blair  had  already  discovered,  it 
commanded  the  widest  view  of  the  ocean  at 
sunset. 

He  was  the  first  to  speak  when  they  struck 
again  into  the  main  trail. 

"I  wished  for  something  about  a  rose,  a 
wild  rose, — want  to  guess?"  He  eyed  her 
mischievously. 

"Hush, — mustn't  tell!"  she  laughed. 
"Your  wish  won't  come  true  if  you  tell." 
Then,  for  no  reason  at  all,  she  blushed. 


Seventy-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

Never,  in  truth,  during  her  twenty-three 
years  of  working,  and  scrimping,  and  going 
without,  had  life  shown  to  the  little  art  teacher 
so  fair  and  generous  a  side,  seemed  so  extrav 
agantly  joyous  an  affair  as  during  that  magic 
week.  The  spending  of  money,  it  was  easy  to 
see,  meant  little  or  nothing  to  Blair.  But  that 
was  the  least  of  his  attractions,  for,  to  the  girl 
herself,  mere  wealth  for  its  own  sake  had  never 
appealed.  The  charm  lay  rather  in  the  genial 
broadness  of  his  view  of  things,  the  strength 
of  reasoning  behind  the  few  opinions  he  put 
forward,  his  reticence,  and  quiet  modesty.  In 
these  dwelt  the  spell  that  swept  her  into  an  al 
most  delirious  enjoyment  of  his  society.  For, 
all  unknown  to  herself,  like  many  another 
woman  in  like  condition,  she  had  needed  a 
change  of  people.  In  the  cramped  life  of  a 
private  school  men  played  but  little  part,  and 
the  men  who  were  most  worth  while,  almost 
no  part  at  all.  Instinctively,  in  time,  she  had 
wearied  of  little  girls  and  their  lessons.  Sorely 
had  she  craved  the  stimulus  which  only  the 
companionship  of  congenial  men  can  give.  Of 
this  fact,  however,  she  had  been  even  less 
aware. 


Eighty 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


One  crisp  morning,  seated  in  a  diminutive 
wicker  cart  behind  a  discontented  burro,  they 
searched  out  Chicken  John's  cabin  on  the  mesa 
behind  the  golf  links. 

"Not  that  it  has  anything  to  do  with  In 
dians,"  she  apologized,  "only  I  want  you  to  see 
him.  He's  such  a  character,  so  nice  and  un 
tidy  and  queer!" 

As  a  result  of  this  expedition  they  brought 
away  with  them  what  old  John  designated  a 
"plump  little  fry"  to  be  served  at  the  cosy 
table  for  two  in  the  sunniest  window  of  the 
dining  room,  a  luxury  which  Blair  had  like 
wise  confiscated  in  the  interests  of  business. 

And  so  for  seven  glorious  days  they 
tramped  the  fragrant  hills,  or  sailed  a  sea  as 
softly  blue  as  though  fallen  fresh  that  morning 
from  the  cloudless  heaven  above.  In  the 
warmth  and  glow  of  his  friendship  the  starved 
heart  of  the  little  art  teacher  opened  like  some 
hot-house  flower  carried  suddenly  into  the  wide 
outdoors.  And  when  at  last  the  week  drew  to 
an  end,  their  work,  both  his  and  hers,  was  still 
unfinished,  so  that  there  was  nothing  else  to  do 
but  to  live  on  through  another  fully  as  wonder 
ful. 


Eighty-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


Blair  himself  took  things  much  more  for 
granted,  and  even  when  their  talk  strayed 
farthest  afield  it  was  plain  to  the  girl  that  his 
mind  never  fully  lost  sight  of  the  purpose  for 
which  he  had  come.  His  work  stood  always 
first,  while, — she  blushed  to  own  it  even  to  her 
self, — she  had  sometimes  entirely  forgotten  her 
own. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  week  they  had  seen 
almost  everything  he  considered  essential  and 
at  times  she  sensed  in  his  manner,  even  when 
he  was  least  aware  of  it,  a  kind  of  repressed 
impatience.  She  knew  what  it  meant  and  shiv 
ered.  Presently  he  would  leave  her,  and  life 
would  become  again  the  same  dull  round  of 
work.  Only  one  spot  of  real  importance  re 
mained  unvisited, — the  cavern  bower  above  the 
Bay  of  Moons.  Of  this  he  had  spoken  fre 
quently,  and  well  she  knew  he  held  it  the  cli 
max  of  his  search. 

But  for  reasons  best  known  to  herself  Miss 
Hastings  put  off  from  day  to  day  this  final  ex 
pedition  until  Blair  began  to  chaff  at  the  delay. 

"That's  really  the  one  place  I  came  to  see!" 
he  told  her  more  than  once.  "After  I've  been 
there  I  think  I  can  go." 

Eighty- two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"But  we've  planned  Middle  Ranch  for  to 
day,"  she  would  answer  evasively,  or,  'This  is 
the  best  time  to  see  Orazaba;  it's  so  clear  this 
morning.  That's  the  mountain,  you  know, 
where  the  Indians  carved  out  their  ollas.  Some 
of  them  are  still  there,  only  half  cut  away.  It 
would  be  too  bad  for  you  to  miss  that." 

At  length,  however,  there  came  a  day  when 
excuses  would  do  no  longer. 

"We've  waited  long  enough,"  he  declared 
that  morning  over  their  coffee,  "Besides,  I  may 
have  to  go  now  in  a  few  days." 

And  although  at  his  words  the  sunshine 
of  her  new  world  faded  suddenly  away,  yet  the 
little  teacher  kept  a  brave  front.  She  even 
laughed  carelessly. 

"Men  are  so  impatient,"  she  teased,  "But 
we'll  go  today." 

Nevertheless,  it  was  not  until  the  rose  of 
sunset  rested  among  the  hills  that  at  last  they 
found  themselves  on  the  crest  of  the  tall  cliff 
which  commanded  so  wide  a  stretch  of  the 
ocean  and  the  shimmering  valleys  below. 

"It  reminds  one  of  the  Bay  of  Naples,"  ob 
served  Blair,  pausing  to  scan  the  rocky  coast 
line  against  which,  far  beneath  them,  the  foam- 

Eighty-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

ing  breakers  threw  themselves.  He  shaded  his 
eyes  with  his  hand  and  looked  far  out  to  sea. 
"What  a  wonderful  place  for  a  watch  tower  it 
would  have  made!" 

"It  had  one  once,"  softly  replied  the  girl, 
"Wildenai's  watch  tower!" 

Blair  turned,  their  eyes  met,  and  he 
smiled. 

"It's  been  splendid  to  have  you  with  me  all 
these  days,"  he  said,  "I've  been  wanting  to  tell 
you.  You've  been  more  of  a  help  than  you'll 
ever  know."  And  then,  after  a  pause,  "It's 
because  you  care  so  much  about  the  story 
yourself,  I  suppose,  that  you've  been  such  an 
inspiration  to  me." 

Something  in  the  girl's  heart  seemed  sud 
denly  to  snap. 

"It's  because  I  care  more  about  your  work, 
and — and  you.  You  are  so  wonderful!"  she 
broke  forth  impulsively,  and  stood  before  him 
crimson  with  confusion.  For  a  second,  which 
seemed  to  her  an  age,  there  was  silence.  Then 
he  spoke  and,  in  her  bitter  humiliation,  his 
voice  sounded  strained  and  cold. 

"Shall  we  go  in?"  he  asked. 


Eighty-four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

Silently  he  parted  the  tangle  of  manzanita 
that  for  centuries  had  veiled  the  secrets  of  the 
princess,  and  stood  aside  for  her  to  enter. 
Wildly  the  little  art  teacher  glanced  about  her. 
This  moment  to  which  she  had  so  looked  for 
ward,  and  yet  had  dreaded  as  much  because  it 
meant  the  end, — this  moment  which  might, 
nevertheless,  have  meant  much  to  them  both 
even  though  it  were  the  end,  she  herself  had 
spoiled!  All  its  delicate  beauty  changed  to  a 
sordid  suspicion,  it  lay  in  ruins  now  because  of 
her  thoughtless  words.  She  dared  not  guess  at 
what  he  must  be  thinking!  For  a  desperate 
second  she  considered  flight.  Then  proudly 
she  raised  her  head.  One  more  thing,  at  least, 
about  her  now  he  should  learn ! 

"Did  you  know — ?"  she  began,  then  broke 
off  irresolute. 

Blair  glanced  at  her  and  again  their  eyes 
met.  This  time  he  did  not  smile. 

"Know  what?"  he  asked. 

She  laughed  with  embarrassment. 

"It  really  isn't  of  any  interest  to  you, 
but— "  and  again  she  paused. 

"Suppose  you  let  me  be  the  judge  of  that," 
he  suggested  stiffly.  "You're  making  me  hor- 


Eighty-five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


ribly  curious,  you  know.  You  can't  very  well 
drop  the  subject  now."  He  was  evidently 
making  an  effort  at  pleasantry. 

She  flushed  brightly. 

"Of  course  it  couldn't  be  of  the  slightest  im 
portance  to  anyone  except  myself,"  she  ex 
plained.  Then,  as  if  doubting  her  courage  to 
continue  long,  she  hurried  on,  "but  one  reason 
I  take  such  an  interest  in — your  work  is  be 
cause  I'm  a  direct  descendant  of  Lord  Harold 
myself.  He  became  the  Duke  of  Norfolk 
afterward,  you  know,  but  Hastings  was 
always  the  family  name."  She  flashed  him  a 
haughty  glance,  a  pride  that  changed  to  wide- 
eyed  surprise  as  she  noted  his  amazement. 

"Not  really"  He  had  turned  abruptly  and 
in  his  eyes  there  was  a  curious  expression,  al 
most  of  alarm.  "How  extraordinary, — how 
perfectly  extraordinary!" 

"Why  extraordinary?"  That  her  cup  of 
humiliation  might  brim  to  the  full,  resentment 
was  added  to  confusion.  "You  consider  me  un 
worthy,  then,  of  having  had  nobility  among 
my  ancestry?  But,  just  the  same,  there  was 
nothing  strange  about  it.  The  colonies  were 
chiefly  English,  you  remember!"  He  smiled 

Eighty-six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

at  her  sarcasm.  "The  duke  married  one  of 
Elizabeth's  ladies-in-waiting  after  he  went 
home  and  there  was  a  younger  son,  and  he  had 
a  younger  son,  and  after  a  long  time  one  of 
them  came  over  to  Virginia  just  like  anybody 
else.  They  have  always  been  good,  loyal, 
highly  respected  American  citizens,"  she  told 
him  fiercely,  "and  I'm  proud  of  them!  Be 
sides — "  with  reckless  emphasis,  "I've  always 
felt  so  sorry  for  Wildenai." 

But  at  this  point,  quite  incomprehensibly, 
Blair  broke  into  peals  of  laughter. 

"And  by  and  by,  after  a  long,  long  time, 
one  of  these  good,  loyal,  American  citizens  that 
we're  both  so  proud  of  had  a  hot-tempered, 
most  disloyal  little  daughter  who  intends  to 
show  her  employer  his  proper  place  before  she 
dismisses  him!  But  why  are  you  sorry  for 
Wildenai?" 

With  mischievous  eyes  he  searched  her 
face. 

She  flushed,  then,  looking  squarely  at  him, 
"Because  she  was  impulsive  like  me,  and  just 
for  that  reason  Lord  Harold  ran  away  and  left 
her,"  she  said.  "He's  the  only  one  of  them  I 
never  had  any  use  for." 


Eighty- seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


Blair  wandered  the  length  of  the  cavern 
and  back  before  he  replied. 

"You  think  him  a  coward,  I  suppose."  He 
still  looked  as  though  he  wanted  to  laugh,  yet 
something  in  his  tone  seared  her  outraged 
pride.  He  might  as  well  have  touched  an  iron 
to  quivering  flesh.  "You  ought  to  remember, 
however, — I  mean  every  woman  ought  to  re 
member, — that  when  a  girl  lets  a  man  know 
that  she  cares  for  him  she  generally  forfeits, 
then  and  there,  whatever  interest  she  may  have 
had  for  him.  Wildenai  risked  too  much.  Of 
course,  in  her  case  there  was  some  excuse.  She 
was  only  an  untrained  barbarian.  But,  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  I  tell  you  there's  noth 
ing  a  man  despises  so  much!" 

What  was  done  or  said  after  that  Miss  Hast 
ings  never  could  have  told.  She  was  possessed 
of  but  one  desire, — to  get  away,  to  go  back  to 
the  hotel, — home,  anywhere  beyond  the  reach 
of  his  voice  and  his  eyes.  For  the  moment  she 
hated  him,  and  although  Blair,  conscience 
smitten'  at  he  knew  not  what,  waited  in  the 
lobby  a  full  hour  before  going  in  to  dinner,  she 
did  not  come  down. 


Eighty- eight 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


Up  in  her  room,  mechanically  brushing  her 
hair  for  the  night,  Miss  Hastings  stormily  ad 
dressed  the  girl  in  the  glass  who  stared  so 
scornfully  back  at  her. 

"I  tell  you  I  don't  care  a  thing  about  it!  He 
probably  thought  he  was  justified  in  every 
word  he  said.  He's  probably  smiling  this  very 
minute  because  he  thinks  he  managed  it  so 
well !  But  he's  a  coward  just  the  same,  and  I 
despise  him, — I  do  despise  him!"  Her  eyes 
brimming  with  tears,  she  fiercely  repeated  the 
word.  "Well,  he'll  soon  find  out  how  much  I 
really  meant!" 

Over  and  over  she  re-lived  the  short  scene, 
— all  of  its  humiliation,  all  of  its  hurt,  seeking 
at  every  turn  solace  for  her  woman's  pride. 

"Naturally  I  wanted  to  help  him  all  I  could, 
to  appear,  at  least,  to  be  interested,  especially 
when  he  was  paying  so  much  for  it!  It  was 
only  a  business  arrangement  anyway,"  she 
continued  bitterly,  "nothing  but  business  from 
start  to  finish,  and  if  he  doesn't  know  that  yet, 
he'll  find  it  out  the  very  first  thing  tomorrow 
morning!" 

And  having  tumbled  into  bed  she  lay  star 
ing  into  the  dark,  planning  the  details  of  a 


Eighty-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


campaign  warranted  either  to  cure  or  kill  the 
enemy.  Outside,  a  mocking  bird,  perched  pro- 
vokingly  near  her  window,  kept  the  night  ring 
ing  with  music.  Resolutely  she  closed  her 
ears  to  his  song.  But  presently,  through  the 
faint  fragrance  of  oleanders,  other  sounds  be 
gan  to  penetrate, — the  strains  of  the  waltz  to 
which  they  had  danced  only  the  night  before. 
The  little  art  teacher  turned  wearily  over  and 
cried  herself  to  sleep. 

On  the  morning  which  followed  she  rose 
very  early,  however,  much  too  early  to  break 
fast  with  Blair  at  the  little  table  in  the  sunny 
corner.  Instead,  she  ordered  some  coffee  and 
toast  at  the  Waffle  Shop  in  the  village  and  was 
hard  at  work  sketching  on  the  wharf  before 
eight  o'clock.  She  had  suddenly  remembered 
a  promise  to  paint  Skipper  Ben  in  his  fishing 
dory.  Indeed,  so  long  ago  had  the  arrange 
ment  been  made  and  so  entirely  had  it  been 
neglected,  that  no  one  was  more  surprised  than 
old  Ben  himself  at  her  unexpected  appearance. 

"But  I  was  jest  about  calculatin'  to  go  arter 
tuna  this  mornin',"  he  demurred. 

"I'm  sorry  to  have  had  to  put  it  off  so 
long,"  replied  Miss  Hastings  crisply,  "but  I'm 


Ninety 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

planning  to  go  home  in  a  few  days  now, — this 
afternoon  probably.  It's  the  only  chance  I 
shall  have."  And  she  prepared  to  make  good 
the  belated  promise  with  such  determination 
that,  after  a  wistful  glance  or  two  across  the 
slapping  white  caps,  Skipper  Ben  meekly  suc 
cumbed. 

It  was  here  Blair  found  her  an  hour  or  so 
later.  Unceremoniously  he  placed  himself  in 
front  of  her,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  gave 
vent  to  a  low  whistle. 

"Well,  of  all  the— !" 

"Oh,  is  it  you,  Mr.  Blair?"  she  inquired  in 
cool,  sweet  tones.  "I  thought  most  probably 
you'd  gone !  Didn't  you  say  yesterday  you  in 
tended  to  as  soon  as  you'd  seen  the  cavern?" 
Then,  after  a  pause  during  which  Blair  said 
nothing,  "I've  been  getting  dreadfully  behind 
with  my  own  work,  so  I  thought,  if  you  didn't 
mind,  I'd  try  to  catch  up  a  little  this  morning." 

"Certainly  not.  Take  all  the  time  you  want! 
We've  about  finished  anyway,  I  guess."  His 
coolness  matched  her  own. 

Another  silence  during  which  she  painted 
furiously. 


Ninety-one 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


"I'm  making  a  sketch  of  old  Ben  in  his 
boat,"  she  ventured  at  length  when  the  strain 
had  become  too  uncomfortable. 

"So  I  see." 

This  second  tentative  effort  at  conversation 
having  flickered  and  gone  out  she  bent  again  to 
her  work,  while  Blair  remained,  looking  down 
at  her,  in  his  eyes  mingled  amusement  and 
resentment.  What  had  he  done,  he  wondered, 
to  account  for  such  a  change  ?  Or,  perhaps,  it 
was  something  he  had  not  done.  He  tried 
again. 

"Aren't  we  going  for  our  ride  this  morn 
ing?  It's  a  glorious  day,  and  I  have  the  re 
fusal  of  the  two  best  horses." 

"No,  I  think  not, — not  this  morning,  thank 
you,"  she  answered.  In  her  voice  was  the  same 
crisp  sweetness.  "I  haven't  time!" 

With  a  shrug  of  pure  bewilderment  he 
backed  away,  then  lingered  a  moment  longer 
to  watch  the  sketch  take  shape  beneath  her 
hurrying  brush.  That  was  the  particular  mo 
ment  Miss  Hastings  chose  for  the  final  reck 
less  stab. 

"You're  standing  in  my  light,"  she  said. 
"If  you'd  just  as  soon,  please  do  go  away,  Mr. 

Ninety-two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

Blair.  It  makes  me  nervous  to  have  people 
looking  over  my  shoulder  when  I'm  trying  to 
paint." 

This  was  just  a  trifle  more  than  Blair  at  the 
moment  was  prepared  to  stand.  His  eyes  grew 
dark. 

"Certainly,"  he  replied  icily.  "So  sorry  to 
have  bothered  you  at  all.  I  only  came  down 
to  tell  you  that  I've  decided  to  leave  today. 
There's  nothing  more  to  keep  me  now,  I  think, 
and  I'm  rather  anxious  to  get  home.  You'll 
find  your  check  at  the  desk."  And  he  saun 
tered  away. 

She  did  not  go  back  to  the  hotel  for 
luncheon.  She  had  finished  her  sketch,  yet, 
somehow,  when  the  time  came,  she  discovered 
that  it  would  be  quite  impossible  to  enter  the 
dining  room.  She  found  it  equally  impossible 
to  take  the  afternoon  boat  herself.  Instead, 
having  clambered  half  way  up  the  steep  slope 
to  the  cavern,  she  watched  from  behind  a  flam 
ing  riot  of  wild  nasturtians  while,  preceded  by 
a  hotel  porter  bearing  bags  and  suit-cases, 
Blair  boarded  the  Avalon  for  Los  Angeles.  He 
was  going  away,  then,  without  even  a  word  of 
farewell. 


Ninety-three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


The  heart  of  the  little  art  teacher  turned 
cold  within  her,  so  cold  that  she  sank  numbly 
into  the  red  and  gold  tangle;  nor  did  she  look 
up  again  until  the  steamer,  dipping  below  the 
horizon,  had  left  only  a  trail  of  smoke  to  show 
where  it  disappeared.  She  had  not  believed 
that  he  would  do  quite  that! 

When  evening  came  she  went  stoically  into 
dinner.  There  was  no  reason  any  longer  for 
staying  away.  Sternly  she  kept  her  eyes  from 
the  vacant  place  opposite.  Yet  somehow  she 
could  not  persuade  herself  that  he  was  really 
gone.  More  than  once  she  caught  herself 
watching  the  door,  half  expecting  to  see  him 
stroll  in  with  apologies  for  tardiness  and  take 
his  empty  chair.  When  again  the  orchestra 
drifted  suddenly  into  the  waltz  to  which  they 
had  danced,  she  rose  abruptly  and  left  the 
room. 

Well,  she  would  go  herself  in  the  morning. 
She  would  settle  everything  and  pack  her 
things  at  once.  She  went  to  the  desk  to  ask 
for  the  check.  But  there  was  nothing  for  her. 
No,  the  clerk  assured  her  after  much  fumbling, 
Mr.  Blair  hadn't  left  anything,  either  in  her 
box  or  his  own.  But, — the  man  stole  a  covert 


Ninety-four 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

glance  at  her  downcast  face, — he  was  still 
holding  his  rooms.  Probably  he  meant  to  at 
tend  to  it  when  he  returned. 

That  he  might  not  see  the  wild  joy  that 
leaped  to  her  eyes,  Miss  Hastings  turned  with 
startling  suddenness  and  fled  upstairs.  Safe 
in  her  own  room  she  flung  herself  with  tears 
and  laughter  on  the  bed.  So  that  was  the  hand 
he  was  playing,  was  it? — the  dear,  wicked,  un 
manageable — !  Of  course  he  would  have  to 
be  punished,  —  well  punished!  but  —  she 
laughed  aloud  for  pure  joy — the  world  was  a 
radiant  place  once  more,  and  nothing  of  any 
sort  really  mattered,  because  he  was  coming 
back. 

But  the  next  day  went  by,  and  the  next, 
and  he  had  not  come.  Day  after  day  passed 
in  an  empty  procession,  yet  no  one  of  them 
brought  that  for  which  she  waited.  And  there 
was  nothing  else  to  do.  Work  was  out  of  the 
question.  She  could  not  sit  still  long  enough. 
It  became,  instead,  her  sole  occupation  to  linger 
each  morning  and  afternoon  on  the  verandah 
until  the  steamer  from  Los  Angeles  had  round 
ed  the  point  and  crossed  the  bay  in  front  of  the 
hotel.  Then,  hidden  behind  the  palms  she 


Ninety- five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

would  watch  until  the  last  straggling  tourist 
had  left  the  pier.  But  still  he  did  not  come. 

Doubt  in  every  tormenting  guise  assailed 
her.  Perhaps  he  had  changed  his  mind  and 
decided  later  not  to  return.  Yet  the  clerk  had 
said  he  meant  to  come  back!  Perhaps  her 
check,  sent  by  mail,  was  even  now  in  her  box. 
But  she  had  not  the  courage  to  go  again  to  the 
desk.  Driven  by  alternate  hope  and  fear  she 
lost  color,  and  she  could  not  sleep.  During 
seven  miserable  nights  she  planned  to  go  back 
to  Pasadena  by  the  morning  boat,  and  as  many 
times  she  put  it  off.  Yet,  if  he  did  return  to 
find  her  waiting,  what,  then,  would  she  have 
given  him  the  right  to  think?  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  she  went  she  might  never  see 
him  again ! 

On  the  eighth  day  she  took  herself  grimly 
in  hand.  No  longer  would  she  humiliate  her 
self  by  any  further  delay.  Wildenai  had  not 
waited,  and  even  a  school  teacher  can  be  as 
proud  as  an  Indian  princess!  That  very  after 
noon  she  would  finish  her  sketch  of  the  cavern. 
Then  tomorrow  she  would  go  back  to  Pasa 
dena  and  the  long  gray  round  of  work.  Deso 
lately  she  wandered  up  the  secret  trail  to  Wil- 

Ninety-six 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


denai's  bower.  Never  had  her  sympathy  for 
the  deserted  princess  been  so  keen.  Perhaps, 
she  mournfully  considered,  if  the  spirit  of  the 
Indian  maiden  still  lingered  there  it  might  feel 
sympathy  for  her  as  well.  Perhaps  she,  too, 
would  find  comfort  in  the  spot  where  that  other 
woman  had  paid  an  equal  price  for  her  impul 
siveness. 

The  shadows  in  the  little  cavern  were  dark 
and  cool  and,  laying  aside  her  box  of  colors, 
for  a  long  time  she  sat  quite  motionless,  staring 
out  to  where  the  gulls  drifted  and  glinted 
against  the  blue.  She  heard  after  a  while  the 
whistle  of  the  approaching  steamer  but  gave 
no  heed.  Lying  back  against  the  moss  she  had 
almost  dropped  asleep  when  something  in  the 
corner  opposite  attracted  her  attention.  She 
sat  up  nervously  and  stared  into  the  shadows. 
Was  it  only  that  the  darkness  was  deeper  over 
there,  or  was  that  really  something  propped 
against  the  wall  ?  And  had  it  moved  ? 

In  the  years  that  followed  she  never  knew 
how  long  she  sat  there  after  the  stones  had  been 
lifted  away,  holding  in  her  lap  those  shreds  of 
torn  white  doeskin.  Still  caught  together, 
though  in  tatters,  by  long  strings  of  shells  and 

Ninety-seven 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


beads,  they  shone,  a  ghostly  film  of  white  from 
out  the  dimness.  A  breath,  and  the  whole 
would  have  crumbled  into  dust.  Yet  the  beads, 
she  noticed,  were  still  perfect  as  when  strung 
by  slim  brown  fingers  centuries  before.  Only 
half  believing  it  was  not  all  of  it  a  dream,  she 
lifted  them  strand  after  strand.  Then,  sud 
denly,  she  gave  a  little  cry.  Somewhere  from 
out  the  torn  folds  a  slender  chain  had  slipped. 
Trembling  with  a  curiosity  that  bordered  close 
on  terror,  she  carried  it  to  the  light,  and  there 
it  glowed,  a  glancing  stream  of  crimson,  in  her 
hand. 

"Wildenai's  necklace!"  she  breathed,  and 
hid  her  face. 

There  came  the  sound  of  a  step  outside. 
The  manzanita  branches  were  pushed  impa 
tiently  aside  and  he  stood  before  her. 

The  journey  across  the  channel  from  Los 
Angeles  had  seemed  twice  as  long  as  when  he 
made  it  a  few  weeks  before,  and  he  had  hur 
ried  all  the  way  from  the  hotel  straight  to  the 
little  cavern.  But  now  that  he  had  found  her 
again,  there  seemed  to  be  plenty  of  time  for 
everything,  and  he  stood  quite  silent  looking 
down  at  her.  He  was  glad  he  had  found  her 

Ninety-eight 


ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


there,  glad,  in  a  curious,  unreasoning  way,  for 
the  quiet  of  the  late  afternoon,  for  the  faint 
fragrance  of  the  Mariposa  lilies  blooming  just 
beyond  the  ledge.  Yet  he  let  her  know  noth 
ing  of  this  in  what  he  said. 

"So  here  you  are,  after  all!  I  thought  I 
should  find  you  here." 

She  had  not  heard  him  come  and  was 
startled  into  a  cry. 

"You!"  she  gasped,  and  lifted  eyes  in 
which  the  telltale  signs  of  tears  were  still  quite 
evident,  so  evident  that,  with  a  woman's  in 
stinct  to  hide  them,  she  caught  up  the  necklace 
and  held  it  toward  him. 

"See  what  I've  found!"  she  exclaimed. 

But  he  paid  no  heed.  Instead,  manlike,  he 
proceeded,  quite  unconsciously,  to  say  the  one 
thing  that  could  hurt  her  most. 

"I  looked  for  you  at  the  hotel  first,  then  I 
came  on  up  here.  I  knew  you  wouldn't  go  till 
I  came!" 

The  color  that  had  flooded  her  face  at  the 
sound  of  his  voice  faded  again.  She  was  quite 
white  as  she  asked  quietly : 

"How  could  you  know  I  would  stay?" 


Ninety-nine 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


He  laughed  easily,  settling  himself  confi 
dently  on  the  moss  at  her  side. 

"Because  I  hadn't  paid  you  yet,"  he  an 
swered  gaily.  "Don't  you  think  that  was 
clever  of  me,  Wildenai?" 

"I  would  rather  you  did  not  call  me  that," 
she  told  him  coldly,  "It  sounds  irreverent."  And 
she  dropped  her  eyes,  which  had  filled  again 
miserably,  to  the  film  of  white  in  her  lap.  Then, 
with  a  pitiful  attempt  to  hurt  him  in  return: 
"Of  course  you  realize  that  I  really  don't  know 
much  about  you.  I  don't  want  you  to  think 
that  I  distrusted  you  exactly — "  she  marvelled 
at  herself  that  she  could  say  such  things  to 
him,  but  went  recklessly  on.  "The  check 
wasn't  there, — and  so,  well, — it  seemed  wisest 
to  wait.  They  said  you  were  coming  back,  and 
I  couldn't  afford  to  lose  it;  so  I  stayed.  Just  a 
matter  of  business,  you  see!"  She  finished  in 
a  tone  which,  except  for  a  suspicious  tremble, 
was  satisfactorily  disagreeable. 

But  Blair's  armor,  since  his  return,  seemed 
proof  against  such  thrusts  as  she  could  give. 

"Won't  play  Indian  at  all,  then?"  he  re 
torted  teasingly.  "But  of  course  not!  How 
could  you  when  you  happen  to  come  from  the 


Hundred 


ROMANCE      OF       CATALINA 


other  side  of  the  house?  However/'  he  con 
tinued  whimsically,  "there  are  such  things  as 
English  roses,  you  know.  I've  always  loved 
them,  too,  even  when  they  were  thorny!" 

He  pulled  absently  at  a  fern  growing  near, 
while,  suddenly,  for  no  particular  reason,  the 
color  glowed  again  in  the  cheeks  of  the  little 
art  teacher.  She  smiled,  half  unwillingly. 

"But  don't  pull  up  the  wild  flowers  here," 
she  warned  him,  "You'll  have  the  forester  after 
you!  When  did  you  get  back?"  she  added. 
"Where  have  you  been  so  long?"  burned  on 
her  lips,  but  she  scorned  to  ask  it. 

"About  an  hour  ago,"  he  replied  amiably. 
"The  boat  was  late." 

"I  was  beginning  to  think  you'd  given  up 
coming  at  all."  She  could  not  keep  it  back. 
"The  duke  never  bothered  to,  you  know." 

But  this  blow,  like  the  first,  failed  to  reach 
any  vulnerable  spot.  Blair  did  not  flinch. 

"No,  naturally  he  didn't!  He  was  English, 
and  you  can't  depend  upon  the  English,  I've 
discovered.  But  there's  not  the  slightest  rea 
son  for  linking  me  up  with  him.  The  princess 
never  ran  away  now,  did  she?  And  I — "  He 


Hundred  One 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 

paused,  then  without  looking  at  her  he  began 
again. 

"Seriously,  I'm  sorry  if  I  seemed  to  be  de 
serting.  I — well,  honestly,  I  didn't  know 
what  else  to  do.  You  suggested  it  yourself, 
you  remember!  And  I'd  promised  my  father 
to  look  after  some  business  for  him  in  Los  An 
geles  while  I  was  out  here.  You  see,  he — our 
family,  have  lived  in  the  East  for  a  long  time 
now,  but  we  used  to  own  pretty  much  all  of 
Los  Angeles  county  some  three  centuries  ago, 
when  the  Spanish  were  here,  and — "  Again 
he  broke  off  abruptly.  "Do  you  want  to  know 
about  me?"  he  demanded. 

Miss  Hastings  leaned  breathlessly  toward 
him.  Her  heart  was  beating  wildly. 

"Oh,  please!  "she  begged. 

"Perhaps  I  should  have  told  you  at  the 
first,"  he  began,  "or  at  least  after  you  told  me 
who  you  were,  but — anyway,  I  didn't.  I'd 
never  told  anyone  before  and  I  didn't  much 
suppose  I  ever  would.  There's  a  reason, 
though,  why  I'm  particularly  interested  in  this 
legend,  too,  a  reason  just  as  good  as  you've 
got.  I'm — well,  I'm  one  of  Wildenai's  great, 
great  grandsons!" 


Hundred  Two 


A      ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 

And  then,  because  she  sat  quite  silent  there 
in  the  shadows,  and  motionless  except  for  fin 
gering  something  white  that  lay  in  her  lap,  he 
waited  uneasily.  Was  she  angry  again,  he 
wondered,  or  perhaps  she  was  only  laughing! 

She  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"Are  you  trying  to  be  funny?"  Her  voice 
was  very  cold. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  answered  hotly.  "It 
must  be  all  of  ten  generations  back  or  even 
more,  and  of  course  it  wasn't  all  Span 
ish  afterward,  but,  just  the  same,  I'm  as  much 
a  descendant  of  the  princess  as  you  are  of  the 
duke, — always  have  been!  I'm  just  as  proud 
of  it,  too.  Possibly  you  will  remember  that  the 
Spanish  beat  the  English  to  it,  at  least  in  Cali 
fornia.  Anyway,"  he  finished  bitterly,  "what 
difference  does  it  make?  So  far  as  I  can  see, 
it  only  gives  us  one  more  good  subject  to 
quarrel  about!" 

Then  out  of  the  dimness  came  a  queer  little 
sound,  whether  of  tears  or  of  laughter  it  was 
impossible  to  know.  For  the  least  part  of  a 
second  a  hand  brushed  his  own. 

"Oh,  no!"  she  whispered,  "Let's  not  do 
that.  It  wouldn't  be  right!  And  see,"  she 


Hundred  Three 


THEIR      MARIPOSA       LEGEND 


laughed  tremulously,  "Isn't  it  strange  I  should 
have  found  it  today,  but,"  she  lifted  the  white 
thing  in  her  lap,  "here  is  Wildenai's  wedding 
dress — and  the  chain  of  garnets!" 

The  cavern  was  quite  dark  before  they  had 
finished  talking  about  it,  but  at  length  they  laid 
the  poor  little  ghost  of  a  garment  reverently 
back  among  the  stones  and  rose  to  go. 

"But  the  necklace?"  Blair  asked,  hesitat 
ing,  "do  you  think  we  ought  to  leave  that 
here?" 

The  girl  considered  a  moment. 

"It's  really  yours,"  she  decided.  "Nobody 
else  could  have  the  least  claim  to  it." 

"Except — "  Suddenly  his  eyes  shone 
with  a  strange  expression  before  which  the  lit 
tle  art  teacher  instinctively  shrank.  He  took  a 
step  toward  her. 

"I  believe  I'll  give  the  garnets  back,"  he  an 
nounced.  "I  fancy  that's  what  the  princess 
would  have  liked  to  do  if  she'd  had  the 
chance.  Besides,"  his  eyes  grew  still  darker, 
"they  were  meant  in  the  first  place  for  a  wed 
ding  gift,  and  so  if  you — " 

He  would  have  clasped  them  about  her 
neck,  but  Miss  Hastings  backed  frantically 
away. 


Hundred  Four 


ROMANCE      OF      CATALINA 


"No! — not  for  worlds/'  she  cried.  "You 
know  you're  only  saying  it  because  you  think 
you  can't  get  out  of  it!"  And  before  he  could 
realize  just  what  was  happening,  she  was  gone. 


The  boat  for  Los  Angeles  was  unusually 
crowded  that  night.  For  either  this  reason,  or 
some  other  she  would  not  acknowledge,  Miss 
Hastings  found  herself  pushed  aside  by  more 
impatient  passengers  every  time  she  attempted 
to  enter  the  gangway. 

"All  aboard!"  called  a  peremptory  voice 
from  somewhere  on  deck.  She  took  a  step  for 
ward,  hesitated,  drew  back.  The  plank  was 
hauled  irrevocably  away,  and  she  turned  to 
face  Blair  standing  just  behind  her  on  the 
wharf. 

"I  was  sure  you  wouldn't  run  away,"  he 
declared,  "but  if  you  had—!" 

She  let  him  lead  her  back  along  the  broad 
boardwalk  toward  the  hotel  until  they  stood 
within  the  shadow  of  the  huge  boulder  which 
for  centuries  has  marked  the  outer  boundary 


Hundred  Five 


THEIR      MARIPOSA      LEGEND 


of  the  Bay  of  Moons.  Beyond  them  the  lights 
of  the  St.  Catherine  glimmered  down  the  hill 
and  on  over  the  water,  rimming  with  golden 
bubbles  the  outlines  of  the  pier. 

"Wildenai!"  Out  of  the  darkness  his  voice 
came  to  her,  mocking,  tender,  wholly  insistent. 
"Foolish,  obstinate  little  lady!  Can't  you  see 
how  it's  up  to  you, — up  to  the  English  to 
make  amends  ?  Honestly  now,  when  he  began 
it  I  don't  imagine  even  that  rascal  Drake  him 
self  would  have  believed  a  family  scrap  could 
last  the  better  part  of  four  centuries.  Don't 
you  really  think  it's  about  time  for  you  to 
call  it  off?" 

And  flinging  her  scruples  to  the  winds, 
Miss  Hastings  suddenly  decided  that  it  was. 


Hundred  Six 


STRATFORD  &GRFJFN 

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Herr,  C.B. 

Their  Mariposa 
legend. 


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